Made of Stone
by Through the Mirror Darkly
Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she does not find a way to break her curse, she will fall. And if she falls, so shall the Line of Durin. (Thorin/Oc)
1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she does not find a way to break her curse, she will fall. And if she falls, so shall the Line of Durin. "Endure. It is all you can do. You have to endure, because if you fall…they will all fall." **

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

**There is unfortunately only one Tolkien character in this chapter, but you can't miss him.**

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**ONE**

**Curiosity Killed the Cat**

_Connected._

_That is what is what the Grey Wizard told me once upon a time…we were connected, through stings of chance and fate. Weaved together for some ultimate designs that none of us could have foreseen. Perhaps I should start at the beginning, it is after all the best place to start a story. My story started before even I knew that it had started…it started with a stone. A jewel unlike any other, or so everyone believed. It was a globe with a thousand facets shining like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon! It was naught, but a stone at first glance I had thought…then I touched it and everything changed._

_I became cursed._

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**Earth **

**Waycross, Kentucky**

**April 26****th****, 2013**

The morning had started like any other for Elizabeth Morgan, who at the tender age of eight had become quite the wanderer. At least, in her make believe world she was world worn. She had slain monsters, taken down fierce dragons and had saved a few Prince Charmings along the way. Quite magnificent feats for someone her age. Pulling her auburn hair back into a messy bun because her mother was not awake yet, and adventurer's couldn't always rely on their mother's to take care of their hair. No, adventurer's needed to be able to take care of themselves, Elizabeth thought with a stern nod. After heating up a quick breakfast of ravioli in the microwave because the stove was forbidden territory guarded the most fierce some of foes…her father. She'd rather take on a thousand dragons that tangle with him. He'd put her in the corner. Elizabeth hated the corner.

Hastily eating her breakfast, she down a glass of milk that was foul but it made the bones strong. Weak bones did no wanderer any good. With her green eyes, she glanced around the quiet home. It was barely five in the morning and the sun had yet to gleam over the horizon. Her siblings and parents were still safely tucked away in bed. It was natural that Elizabeth would already be up when they were not. She had always been the "early bird", her mother had teasingly called her and as soon as she could crawl, she had been venturing off into parts unknown. Her father worried often, but had found there was little stopping her. There was a groan behind her and she turned around seeing her father stumbling into the kitchen.

Charlie Morgan shouldn't be an intimidating man by any means, standing only at five foot four. He had deep rich brown hair, and he was lean almost to the point of scrawny. Deep wrinkles were set in face by the years that had come and gone, and his green eyes stared down at her in mirth. "Good morning," he said, grabbing his coffee cup from the cabinet above her.

"What do you mean by good morning?" Elizabeth grinned broadly. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning? Or that it's a good morning whether I wish or not? Or that this is a morning to be good on."

Her dad paused, and eyed her with an arched eyebrow. "You've been spending way too much with Mr. Grey, little mocking bird," he mused, filing his cup with water and putting it into the microwave. "Perhaps you should stay home more often…"

"No way! Mr. Grey is awesome!" Elizabeth pouted.

Her dad chuckled. Her father didn't always approve of her wandering off on little adventure, but relented when he had discovered that no matter what he did, Elizabeth always found a way to have her adventures. "She has a Wanderer's heart, just like her great-great grandfather," she had overheard her mother tell her father one day. "She goes where her heart bids her to. There is nothing much we can do."

She headed towards the door, but her dad said, "Hold on."

Elizabeth turned to look at him, a pout on her lips that made her dad chuckle ever so lightly. He placed his hands on his hips, and asked, "Food?" He asked.

"Made me a PB and J, and I have a bag of jerky," she replied, with a sharp nod.

"Water?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Canteen is full," Elizabeth nodded, wandering over towards the pile of her father's things that he gathered for work.

His wallet, his pocket knife, and her face split into a grin when she saw the glint of gold in the morning light. Her hand slipped around the golden pocket watch, and she snuck into her pocket like she did nearly every morning. She knew her father saw her every time, but he always kept quiet to humor her. Charlie studied her for a long moment, before nodding satisfied. "Alright. You can go," he allowed, as the microwave beeped loudly. "I need you home by noon. Your mother is going grocery shopping, and I have to go to work, so your either stuck with shopping with your mom or working in the Hunting store with me."

"Hunting store," Elizabeth said quickly then bolted out the door with her father's fond laughter trailing behind her. Her father was a hunter, and taught survival training which is why he was constantly making sure Elizabeth was prepared before she went out on her adventures. He also put up strict rules about how far she was allowed to venture into the woods and how long she could be out there. If Elizabeth broke either of those rules then she would be an adventure no more. So she took those rules very serious because she would miss her trips down to Mr. Grey's house, an old man who lived in a cabin. He told the best stories of elves, and dwarves, and made the best smoke rings though she still told him every time that smoking was nasty. He'd laugh with a merry twinkle in his eye, and put away the pipe to pacify the little adventurer. It was kind of strange how Mr. Grey showed up. She had learned the woods like the back of her hand, she mused as she trudged across the dewy ground with her child sized compound bow and quiver of arrows her dad had made over her shoulder. Pulling her scarf tighter around her face as a cold breeze made her shudder, she remembered how she had stumbled upon Mr. Grey's house that she was certain hadn't been there the day before.

She mentioned it to her parents, but both of them said Mr. Grey had been in Waycross for years so Elizabeth shrugged it off. She walked the familiar path down Trash Hill, a place where everyone had dumped their junk. Everything from washer and dryers to old pieces of roofing and much more. Elizabeth had built a sturdy shack around the base of a large oak tree where on her lazy days she would go sit and read her favorite books. About what you may ask? Why, adventurers! What else? Grey clouds billowed above, and she wondered if it were to rain. That would be a horrible way to start an adventure.

But even rain could not diminish the gleeful wonder as she marched around, racing around tree hoping to spy an elf or two. She leapt over the tree roots, releasing a cry as she sent an arrow throw the air. It hit it's target, a picture of her twin brother who was the biggest butt in the universe that she had taped to a nearby tree. A cry of victor escaped her lips, and she crowed with a loud laugh, "The ugly troll has been slain!"

And she did her happy dance with consisted of jumping up and down, and a poorly attempted moon walk which ended up with her on her bum for she tripped of a tree root. Elizabeth the Great Dragonslayer had conquered another villain and would live to see another day. She sighed happily, lost in her own little world of pretend when she felt it.

A pulse…not unlike a heartbeat, but instead it trembled through the earth beneath her feet. Elizabeth frowned, which looked more like pout on the eight years old face. Curiosity sparked within her heart, as she knelt down pressing her palm flat against the ground. A gasp torn through her lips as her eyes lit up in wonder. There it was it again! But stronger this time! Wonder filled her, whatever could it be? An earthquake perhaps? _No, not an earthquake, _she knew instinctively. _It feels like a…song?_ She didn't know why she thought that. It was a silly thought, but she could feel this electric hum in the air that moved in a slow, mournful rhythm. It crackled against her skin and all the hair on her body stood up, as her green eyes scanned the forest around her.

In all her adventures, she had never felt such a sensation like this one before. In all her life, she had never felt anything like that before! It was strange. It was new. It was exciting! Biting her lip as she literally bounced through the forest trying to find the source of all this energy, she had the biggest grin on her face. She raced through the forest chasing that strange song, completely unaware of the events that she would set into motion. The trees suddenly gave way to a clearing and Elizabeth halted in step. The smile on her face slipped off and she found herself staring at the old railroad tracks. Trains rarely passed here anymore, but it was still the barrier she was never meant to cross.

Her father had told her the railroad tracks weren't not a playground, and she would not cross it. Ever. But she felt the tremble through the ground once more, and she looked helpless at the woods on the other side of the railroad tracks. Surely, if she was quick and hurried then nothing would happen? Maybe rules were sometimes meant to be broken? She stood there torn between listening and giving into her curiosity. And as any natural child would, she gave into the curiosity a split second later. After all, she would only get in trouble if she got caught. All she had to was make sure that like the day she dyed all her brother's clothes pink, that she didn't get caught. A mischievous grin made its way across her face, and slowly and cautiously she made her way across the railroad tracks.

Once she reached the other side, she shot a glance over her shoulder as if her father would magically appear and catch her. After a long moment, when nothing happened she turned back around. Straining she fought hard to keep listening to the song that was dancing in the air, and follow the trembles of the earth. She carefully climbed down a steep hill, using a nearby tree to guide her. She couldn't help, but give little breathless giggles each ever steps. This was the best adventure ever! Oh, what was she going to call it? The Mysterious Song? No, that was so uninspired. _It had to be something better than that_, she thought with a laugh.

She let out a small yelp of shout when she stepped out of the tree line only to stumble into a shallow creek. The cold water made her shudder, and let out a very unladylike word that her momma would have smacked her butt clean off if she had heard Elizabeth use it. She looked around, trying to figure out where the mysterious song and tremble came from. That's when she saw it, standing there like a mouth in the earth ready to swallow anyone who passed by whole.

_A cave? _She thought, blinking hard. Then when it did not disappear, her face broke into a wide grin. She started towards it before pausing. "Oh, please tell me I grabbed it?" She shoved her hands into her pockets, desperately searching before giving a shout of triumphant at finding the flashlight. It was one of her dad's that she nicked when she caught sight of it. Her father had never commented, though she was sure that he knew exactly where it had 'disappeared'. Clicking the flashlight on, she pointed it at the cave. The beam of light cut through the darkness, and Elizabeth started forward once more. She was chewing her bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers as her thought went over all the things that she could encounter in the cave. Imaginary or not.

The further she got into the cave, the more the temperature dropped and she found her clothes did little to protect her from the chill. However that didn't deter her for she had come too far now. It would do her shame if she came back empty handed. Her heartbeat was poundin like drums in her ears, drowning out the ambient noise from around her. She turned a corner losing sight of the exit of the cave, and she pressed a hand to the cavern wall. They were cold, and hard beneath her palm. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps the further she got into the cave. The world that wasn't in the flashlight was pitch black, and anything could be there.

_There's nothing in the dark that isn't there during the day, _she reminded herself, even though she didn't fully believe in that saying. Elizabeth swallowed thickly, and just kept following the song. Finally the tunnel ended, and she found herself in a circular room. The shape of it made her wonder if this was a natural cave. Maybe it was manmade. Like a mine or something. Maybe she'd find treasure. A nugget of gold or block of silver. The thrill of a treasure hunt made her already racing heart beat a little faster and she looked around the room before her gaze finally rested in the center. In the middle of the floor, it dipped in and there was a shallow pool of water that glowed with some kind of strange light. Elizabeth knelt down, her green eyes wide and she gently reached out. Her fingers prodded the pool gently and she gasped as rippled cascaded out from her touch in shimmering bands of light.

A half smile cross her lips when she saw something in the water. Tilting her head, she leaned forward slightly a feeling of bemusement blossoming in her chest.

It was a rock.

But not an ordinary rock. It was the most beautiful rock that she had ever seen, gleaming underneath the water and she knew in her heart that it was responsible for the song and the trembles. It was a small globe shaped rock, flawless. It gleamed with the intensity of thousand bolts of lightning and with a brightness that put the sun to shame. In the center of the stone was a dark core, beautifully obsidian stems reaching out like an imperfection and yet it was perfection at the same time. "Wow…" she breathed out, and slowly reached down through the cold water. Her fingers brushed the stone, the surface of it so smooth unlike anything else she had ever felt. She curled her fingers around it, and picked it up.

She gave a small grunt, startled by the weight of the stone. A heaviness settled across her shoulders, but she paid it no heed. Instead, she rolled the stone between her palms looking at it in undisguised awe. "So…beautiful…" she breathed out, admiring the stone with a broad smile. The stone felt pleasantly cool in her palm…then suddenly it wasn't so cool. Elizabeth's smile slipped off her face and her brows furrowed.

No, it was not cool at all.

It was hot. It was burning. And the burning moved from the stone into her veins, and visions burst forth across her eyes. She saw smoke so black that it blinded her, she could feel people slam into her in their haste to escape but when she turned to look at them all she saw were flickers of light as they were nothing more than ghosts. Her heart throbbed inside of her chest, and she heard the sound of children crying out for their parents. Dread coiled itself around her heart, as she found it hard to breath. It felt as if the world was coming down around and she had no way to escape. Flames of an invisible fire snaked up her arms, and she could feel her skin char and crack. A painful whimper came from her throat, as hot tears rolled down her chest. And that's when terrible beast that turned straight towards her, giving a deafening roar.

And all Elizabeth could do was scream.

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**RRs are appreciated and always answered.**


	2. Far From Home

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.**

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

I want to thank LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, dianaemrys15, Gingah18, chrisd1016929, nbowles, Neewa, aeriestar, Goalhabeticalorder, Tiryn and Blood Black Alchemist for all the follows.

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn and Goalphabeticalorder for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, TheGirl, and chrisd1016929.

**Guest Reviews:**

**TheGirl: **Thank you! :D

**An update already? I know. I can't promise that all updates will be this quick, but I have the first few chapters already written out so I decided to go ahead and update. The third chapter needs some editing and finessing so expected in…two weeks to a month? I would do it faster, but I am eager to get my NCIS story finished up and have another one to work on as well. Hope you enjoy! :D**

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**TWO**

'**Far From Home'**

She screamed and screamed until her throat was raw. The images around her grew more violent, and terrible. Fear twisted and tore through her violently, and she knew not by what strength that she managed to get to her feet. She was going to die. This is what dying felt like. She was certain of that and she scrambled backwards as the image of fierce, fire-breathing monster came lumbering towards her. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. The jewel in her hand melted as if nothing more than a mere illusion, and Elizabeth was too afraid of the visions around her to comprehend that it soaked deep into her skin. Or to comprehend the molten hot pain rushing through her veins as if trying to burn her from the inside out. Tears blinded her vision as she stumbled to find her way out of the cave, her flashlight abandoned somewhere on the ground. Her hands pressed against the cave walls, clinging to them to keep herself standing up and her heart felt like a humming bird's. It was beating impossibly fast, and the eight year old choked out a sob as the dark tunnel never seemed to end.

Behind her she could feel the monster chasing after her, hot on her heels. All around her, she could still hear the screams and feel the heat from the fire snaking up her body thinking to burn the flesh right off her bones. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw vision of smoke, of people running for their lives, towers falling and she just wanted away. It was too much. Just too much, and she burst out of the cave into the light of day. Her feet hit each other sending her face first into the creek. For a minute, she floundered in the two feet of water before she got her feet on the ground. The second she did, she shot off as fast as she could through the water. _Home! _Was the only word the young child think through the panic swirling around her mind. _Home!_

Her mommy would make this better. Her daddy would make this better. She just had to get home, but with each step she took, the pain grew tenfold. Her knees buckled, and she found herself lying face first on the ground. The taste of smoke and ash was on her tongue, causing her stomach to turn violently. She gagged, and choked. Her fingernails bit into the earth as she struggled on all fours up the hill. Her chest heaved up and down with heavy, broken gasps. _One, two, three, _she thought inside of her head, pushing herself further and further. It was something her mother taught her to do when getting a shot. Count over and over inside your head, focus on the numbers and not the pain. _One, two, three._

It felt like eternity until she reached the top of the clearing where her shack was. Every last inch of her body felt sore, and torn like she had been pulled through a meat grinder which was a disturbing thought for an eight year old to have. She kept pushing herself forward until her limbs collapsed beneath her like limp noodles. Her face smacked against the forest floor, and her green eyes stared out. The lush green grass, and flowers that once comforted felt like they were mocking her now, and an irrational burst of anger flooded through her. Her cheeks were flushed, stained with tears and she withered in pain.

She hissed as a strange pressure built in her right hand…the hand that she held the stone in. For a moment, she wasn't sure she had the energy to move and it took all her attention to move her palm inch by inch to her face.

Her green eyes widened and a gasp of panic tore from her lips. Her palm was glowing, in vibrant blues and pearly white with veins of black crawling up her arm. Further and further they moved up her arm and Elizabeth could only watch as they disappeared underneath her sleeve. Following the black veins was the glow and with it came the burn. A searing sensation and Elizabeth let out a noise. It was something between a groan, and a scream-a noise that sounded more like a wounded animal than a human being.

A uncomfortable and powerful pressure rising in her chest, and her fingers reached up, tugging on her collar. She looked down, panting heavily and her stomach lurched. A cry tore through her lips, as the black veins settled over her heart. The beautiful glow eclipse the black, and she held her breath.

And then it happened, so sudden, too quick to stop.

The burn hit her chest, and slammed down. Her heart literally stopped in her chest, and she felt her last breath slip out of lips. She felt herself die, and the world around her shattered and faded away with a bright light. If anyone had been up and looking towards the forest, they would have seen a burst of light shooting towards the sky.

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**Lothlórien**

**2851, Third Age**

Lady Galadriel stood tall, and looked absolutely graceful in the morning light. Long tresses of hair glinted like a golden waterfall half way down her back. Her skin flawless and her face ageless. She was a beauty that could not be surpassed, but it were eyes that held the most beauty of them all. Her eyes that held so much knowledge, wisdom and history stared out across her domain. Years had passed for her, but time was meaningless for an elf. However not meaningless were the times. Dark times that Middle Earth had not foreseen in years, she feared were on the rise once more. Her fears were only increased when a hum of energy pulsed through Middle Earth.

It felt like a birth. An arrival of something new, something that didn't belong and yet the world accepted whatever it was into its womb almost desperately. She could feel the lines of destiny creak and groan as they were shifted to accommodate this being. Galadriel's lips turned into a delicate frown, and she saw her husband Celeborn approached her.

"What troubles you, _meleth nín_?" Celebron asked, his voice deep and musical like many elves were. His hand sliding into Galadriel's after she held it out for him to take. The simple gesture comforts her more than words can express and it is a joy that their love still after so many years is so strong.

"Something has come to Middle Earth," Galadriel spoke, her voice enchanting and spellbinding. Her brows furrowed ever so lightly as she tried to sense what this thing was. "Something…not of this world…"

Celeborn frowned, heavily. "What is it, _meleth e-guilin_? What has come?" He asked, carefully. There was a brief moment where his wife's expression was lost as if searching for something far off in the distance, then a jolt surged through her.

Galadriel's eyes lit up, and a gasp tore through her lips. Her head turned towards her husbands. "A child…it is a child. So lost, so far from home," Galadriel said, her hand tightening on her husband's was the only give away of her distress. "A child who is filled with wonder, and filled with such potiential to bring great joy or to bring such ruin…and…"

"And?" Celeborn tilted his head.

"And I fear," Galadriel said, her face solemn and her gaze heavy, "that we are not the only ones who know." The valley beneath them that was filled with such peace and silence became unnervingly quiet as a cloud of worry settled over them. "And I fear…that we will not be the first to find her…and that it will put her on such a path…such a dark path where there is little hope for light…" And with that Galadriel fell silent for the rest of the day, whatever ill her vision had seen had stolen her voice.

* * *

_Splash…splash…splash…_

It wasn't the noise that stirred the eight year old from her dead like sleep. It was the wet and cold sensation sliding down her cheek. It was very uncomfortable, and she gave a subtle shake of her head to sent it flying off her face. Then her body settled back against her bed which seemed harder than she remembered, but she was too exhausted to care. It felt like she had ran a mile like the school required on Field Day. _Stupid school_, her lips dipped in a pout then she reached for her blanket and a horrible pain shot up her arm. It seemed to echo out through her entire body, and the child coughed painfully. The taste of pennies coated the back of her tongue.

The pain was crippling as she tried to move, but honestly all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. Tears had stung her eyes, and she whimpered slightly. She grinded her teeth together, taking deep breaths letting the rest of the world flitter in around her. From the light streaming from the treetops above, the ground beneath her cold and hard. She blinked rapidly, and the blurriness faded and a cold pit of dread make her forget all about her pain. She pushed herself up using all of her strength, and looked down at her body. She was horrified at what she saw. Her skin from head to toe was covered in bruises and whelps like she had been beaten. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she felt very dizzy. Blinking her sore eyes, she looked around with careful slow movements.

_How long…have I been…?_ Her thought was unfinished as a cold stone of dread dropped into the pit of her stomach. The forest…the forest wasn't right. Not right at all. It was several things that made the icy fear settle in her heart. The lack of leaves on the trees, the ground was hard and cold covered in a faint dusting of snow. A light mixture of ice and rain was falling from the sky, soaking her clothes and Elizabeth's stomach churned. That wasn't possible. It had been spring time when she had passed out. Or died, it felt like she had died. She remembered her heartbeat coming to a complete stop…

A sob ripped through her and she unconsciously flexed her right wrist. She looked around, and saw she had her bow and quiver still on her. Her bag that had her lunch and books and other things was also still secured to her back. She turned and stared stunned at her sanctuary, her shack she had built on the ground in shambles. The great oak tree that had been helping holding it up, mysteriously gone. Elizabeth was an observant child, with a keen eye. All who met her said so, and she liked to believe it, especially when it came to the forest. And Elizabeth knew by turning around in a circle, her eyes shooting all over and it hit her hard.

This was not her forest.

Her heart shriveled in her chest, and a new wave of tears burned her eyes. "Mom? Dad?" She whispered, as if calling out to them would make them magically appear. Elizabeth felt her stomach churn with guilt and fear, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. Scalding hot tears rolled down her chest, and she buried her face into her knees. She cried for so long. She cried until she was nothing, but a shivering mess thanks to the chilling cold storm. The need for warmth had trumped her fears in that moment, and with great effort she stood up. Her knees wobbled and knocked together like a foal walking for the first time. Every muscle pulsed with pain, and her breaths sounded rough like her great Aunt Myrtle who had been a smoker all her life.

What was she to do? She could try to rebuild her shack, but she didn't have the time in this kind of weather. She could feel the storm getting worse. Walking over, she knelt down and started cleaning the metal away. She rolled up her sleeping bag and grabbed her lantern that she had kept in the shack for her lazy days. A part of her cringed at having to leave all her books behind to get wet and warped, but she did not have the strength nor the room to carry them.

Her breaths evened out and she stared numbly out at the forest. She licked her lips, and the eight year old tried glanced at the forest trying to picture her forest and which way was home. She wanted to find her compass in the mess, but it would take too long and her skin prickled painfully in reminder that she needed to get warm. Time was something she couldn't spare, and if…if by chance that home was over that clean hill-that certainly wasn't Trash Hill-then she had to take it.

Wiping the tears away from her face angrily, and straightened her spine. She was a warrior! A knight! She was a fighter! Warriors did not cry for their parents when the road got tough. They…they…they got things done. Her footsteps were sloppy and slow as she trekked through the forest. Her tiny arms shook, holding her things tightly to her. Her teeth chattered together, and her body shivered uncontrollably. She had not dressed for winter, but spring. Each second was like ages passing by, and the only good thing was that eventually she became so numb that she could no longer feel the scorching pain in her limbs. In fact, she really couldn't feel them at all.

The trees thinned out, and Elizabeth could see a clearing in the distances. Hope filled her heart, and she lengthened her sides. She shoved through the bushes, and out into the open looking for the familiar sight of her house. But it wasn't there. Nothing was. She stared aghast out at the open fields, and plains. Her heart plummeting into her stomach and settled there in a heavy weight. Her home was not here. Her fingernails dug into her sides, and she drew in a hysterical breath. Where was home? How far away from it was she? Was mommy and daddy looking for her? Was anyone looking for her? She sniffled, but rubbed her eyes stubbornly reminding herself that adventurers did _not_ cry. Biting the inside of her cheek, she made her way forward because she had come too far to go back now.

The grass was brown and wilted and would have crunched underneath her feet if the ground hadn't become sobbing wet. She moved her fingers anxiously, she remembered that it was important to keep moving when cold. Her move was certainly trying to her, the muscles are jumping and jerking beneath her skin with a mind of their own. She drew in a icy breath, trying to peer through the sheet of ice and rain pouring down. It took a moment, but she could make out a shape in the distance that distinctly looked like a building off some sort.

Narrowing her eyes, a cabin came slowly into focus. It was not old, but it looked worn with the front porch busted up like something had taken a sledgehammer to it. But it had four walls and roof, so what more could she ask for? Elizabeth ran towards the cabin, moving faster than she had in the last hour or so. The porch creaked beneath her feet, and she walked up to the door. It looked quite intimidating, the wood had been turned grey by weather, and there appeared to be claw marks along the bottom edge.

That gave her pause, but then a chilling wind ripped right through her made her leap towards the door. She reached for the handle before pausing. _What if someone lived here? _The eight year old thought, eyes widening. It seemed unlikely, but someone could she supposed. Wringing her hands together, she pursed her lips together and her brows knitted as she stared at the door worriedly. With a sigh, she raised her fist and pounded on the door. She waited a moment, but no sound came from within. She called out, "Hello! Hello! Can you help me? Please?" She stood there, her ear pressed against the door desperate to hear some kind of shout back. Nothing came, and Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip nervously. Oh, she should have never left home. Her father had been right. Adventures brought nothing but trouble. Indecision filled her, after all, her parents always told her not to talk to strangers. And she was seriously considering going into a stranger's home.

They could be some creepy old guy, or an angry cat lady. Or what if the person who lived here was one of those cereal killers? Cereal killers were the worst! Seriously who goes into peoples house and stomps on their cereal boxes? That is why Elizabeth always hid her honeycomb. The eight year old sighed, and thought, _Well, I don't have any cereal on me and maybe it'll be a nice old lady's house. Maybe they can help me find my family. _With that thought, she twisted the door handle and pushed the door in. It creaked just ominously as the porch did and she swallowed thickly before taking a step in.

The house was quiet, and empty. The whole cabin appeared to be made of entirely one room. A cot shoved into the corner, a broken table beside the single broken window and a poorly crafted fireplace. It wasn't much, but Elizabeth already felt warmer with the four walls surrounding her. Shutting the door carefully behind her, she rubbed her nose that was getting a tickle from all the dust floating in the air. "Okay…" the young girl spoke to herself to break the uneasy silence. "What do I do now?"

She thought about what her dad would do. Charlie Morgan was your typical Kentucky male. A farmer, crafter and hunter. He prided himself on working with his hands, and taught all his child a little bit of everything. He said for one day they might need it. Well, Elizabeth certainly needed it now, but she only knew a little. Less than all of her siblings.

_Start a fire. _The answer came to her. She was cold. She needed heat, and even though daddy said never to play with fire, she thought he would understand in this case. Going over all the things she was going to need, Elizabeth knew she was going to have to improvise. Breaking down the already broken table further with kicks and jumps, she gathered the pieces and brought them to the fireplace. She was going to need something like paper to catch the rest of it on fire. She sat down her sleeping bag, bow and arrows the unzipped her bag. She shifted through it all, before she found the _perfect _thing to help start a fire.

Her math textbook.

A mischievous grin slipped across her lips as she pulled it out. She tore the pages out of the book with more glee and enthusiasm than was warranted, but dealing with an evil megalomaniac of a math teacher for the good part of the year, Elizabeth couldn't find it in her to feel guilty. She crumbled the pieces up and placed them underneath the broken wood. Her hand slid back into her bag, and she pulled out her box of matches. She winced slightly because when her dad found she had matches, Elizabeth will not be able to sit properly for a month. She opened it up, and let out a groan. Her matches were soaked. They were useless until they dried out. Her spirit crumbled a little bit, and she could once again feel the need to weep.

She could hear her brother's voice taunting her in the back of her head. _Crybaby! Crybaby! Gonna cry, crybaby? _Elizabeth felt her teeth grit together, anger spark some warmth inside of her. "I…am…not…a crybaby!" She growled out. Her daddy and momma had raised no fool, and she could survive until her parent's found her. She knew she could. She pulled out everything from her bag, to her Power Rangers lunchbox. She wouldn't starve tonight as she fished out her sandwich, and canteen. She would save her bag of peppered beef jerky because there was no sense in wasting it and it would keep long than her sandwich would.

Her books which consisted of Tom Swayer, Sleeping Beauty, and an old Edgar Allen Poe poetry book that her nana had left to her. Her extra pair of short and shirt because adventures tend to get messy, like falling in the mud messy and her mother did not appreciate that at all especially when Elizabeth tracked it into the house. That's when she felt something cold and hard in the bottom of the bag. Her arrowheads! She pulled them out, and admired them. It was on of her favorite pass times to run through the fields and collect them. Something stirred in the back of her mind, and she recalled something her father said about flint. Flint…could make fires, right? Something about hitting it against…metal? Elizabeth frowned hard, trying to figure out what metal she had to strike against it. She didn't have a pocket knife, her mom said she was too young for that. Of course, Elizabeth sassed saying they let her have arrows so how was that any-her eyes widened, as inspiration hit.

She grabbed her quiver and pulled out an arrow. The steel tip glinted even in the fading light. They weren't sharp like real arrows, but it was steel and would serve her purpose. She pulled the arrow tip off the arrow so she could grip it better. "Let's see if this works," she whispered to herself, and took one of the bigger arrowheads out of her bag. She posed her two hands close together, and then the arrow tip and arrowhead together. A light clang echoed through the shack, and her shoulders slumped when nothing happened. Maybe she wasn't doing it hard enough. Raising her hands to try again because she really didn't want to resort to rubbing sticks together, she took a deep breath letting all her frustration and fear flood into her then she brought the flint together with a harsh crack. A strangled gasp flew past her lips when the tiny sparks shot into the air, then followed by a broad grin. Kneeling down closer to the paper, she slammed the arrow tip against the flint and the sparks showered down. It took two more times before the sparks fell on the paper just right for it to ignite.

Elizabeth blew gently on the growing flame to encourage it on, and she watched mesmerized as the flame eagerly licked a path to the broken wood. Within minutes, warm started to spread through the cabin. She held her hands near the flame and the warmth brought life back into them. But Elizabeth knew that she would have to tend to the fire to keep it alive which would be no great trouble for her, she had helped her father with the woodstove in their home all the time. The only problem here was the lack of wood. _If there was a fireplace surely they would have firewood, _she reasoned, with a thoughtful expression.

The thought of going outside again wasn't a nice one. But what good would it do to start this fire only for it to die out all too soon. Rubbing her arms instinctively, she rose onto her shaky legs. The only thought that kept her going on was that after she got the wood, she got sit down eat and then fall into a peaceful slumber. So out of the door she went into the blistering cold wind, and she wished never more for a coat. It would have been very nice right now. She always loved the cold, snowy season, but now she despised it.

_It's supposed to be Spring! _She thought childishly as she trudged around the cabin. Her body shook, and her teeth chattered together loudly. When she got home she was sleeping by the wood stove because she never, ever wanted to this cold again. She reached the back of the cabin and she could have cried at the stack of firewood she saw. Relief so profound ripped through threatening to send to her knees. Only the thought of getting more wet and dirty kept her from falling down. She stumbled towards the wood, and picked up a couple of logs before heading back around to the front of the cabin. Not knowing how much she would need, Elizabeth made a couple of more trips.

Balancing the three small logs in her arms, she turned when a howl cut through the evening. Elizabeth felt the hair on the back on her neck rise. Her heart jolted in her chest, and she looked around the grassy hill in fear. _What was that? Was it a coyote? _It had to be a coyote, even though deep in her heart she thought that howl was more monstrous than any coyote she had ever heard before. Butit had to be coyotes. She knew that there were coyotes around these parts, but her dad always told her that they were more scared of people so they would never get close to the house. But she wasn't at the house…she was alone. Swallowing thickly, she picked up as many pieces of wood as she could and headed back to the cabin. She ran as fast as she could, urged on by the images of phantom coyotes not far behind. She shoved through the cabin door, and closed it behind her with a deep rough breath.

Exhausted she dropped the wood down beside the fireplace. She hoped that the wood wasn't too soaked yet if not she might be freezing soon. Another howl came from outside and Elizabeth shuddered. On instinct she clumsily walked over to the cot, and started pulling it from the wall. A strained grunt grated through her throat, as she pushed the cot in front of the doorway. The claw marks on the door ever present in her mind. Taking the blankets off the cot, she hung one over the broken window in an attempt to keep the wind out. Elizabeth took on last long look around the cabin before finally flinging off her cold shoes, and pulled off her wet socks. She wiggled her toes that were froze, and counted them to make sure they were all still there. She pulled off her wet clothes, and put on her dry ones. A content sigh fell from her lips, as she set them all near the fire so they'd be dry in the morning.

She curled into her plushy sleeping bag that was a little damp, but had been made warm by the fire, and brought her lunchbox towards her. She settled for eating half of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She took a few sips of water out of her canteen before closing the lid. After that she laid back, and as soon as she closed her eyes, she was asleep. And she did not hear the howls outside that drew ever near.

* * *

**Elvish Translations**

_1.) meleth nín-my love_

_2.) meleth e-Guilin-_love of my life

**Can someone point me to a website that has translations for the dwarves language? I can't find anything and I really want to make this as accurate as possible.**

**Also there will be a time jump to the start of the hobbit next chapter. I toyed with idea of showing all what Elizabeth will go through from here to there, but I will use flashbacks to fill it throughout the story. Eventually I will write a prequel that will go further into detail at a later date.**

**Rrs are appreciated, and always answered whether guest or registered. :D**


	3. Of Monsters, Elves, and Meddling Wizards

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.**

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

I want to thank LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, dianaemrys15, Gingah18, chrisd1016929, nbowles, Neewa, aeriestar, Goalhabeticalorder, Tiryn, , MissVanora, Prost, TerribleSuccubus and Blood Black Alchemist for all the follows.

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, MissVanora and Goalphabeticalorder for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, TheGirl, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, Prost and Gingah18.

**If I missed anyone just shout out at me in a review, or PM. :D**

**Guest Reviews:**

**TheGirl: **Thank you! :D

**So pleased with the turn out for this story. Glad that everyone is liking this so far. There is a bit of a time skip in this story, just letting you all know ahead of time.**

"Regular Talking"

'_Thought will be set up like this.'_

"_Elvish words and translation will be in italic." I've tried to use as much elvish from reliable sights as I could to get an authentic feel. Some things I don't have elvish for, but they will still be in italics so consider it elvish."_

* * *

**THREE**

"**Of Monsters, Elves, and Meddlesome Wizards"**

Three days had come and gone.

No one had come for her. No dad, no mom, and her heart hurt. It felt like it was being torn and twisted and broken into tiny little pieces. All the hope had been drained out of her as the hours ticked by, and no one came. She took a tiny sip from her canteen. It didn't quench her thirst, but she couldn't waste it. She had went back to the clearing and had gathered up her things and brought them back to cabin. Using one of her markers that she used for her coloring books (which were mush now and that made her mad because she worked really hard on them) and wrote on a piece off wood: _Up the hill, in a cabin. -Elizabeth. _

But that had been two days ago, and still no one had came.

Her eyes were red rimmed from the tears she had cried after waking from a dream about being home, and she rubbed her cheeks clean. The under sides of her eyes were bruised from the lack of sleep, the unfamiliar silence with a loud howl ever now and then had made her jolt awake constantly. Her stomach growled with a vengeance, but she didn't dare eat her last scraps of food. If she didn't manage to find some berries, or something it would be all that she had left. She had to get out of here, she had to do something. Waiting…waiting was no good. Her parents hadn't come.

Maybe they were out in the woods, searching for her. She licked her chapped lips, hope rising in her heart. Maybe she should go out there and search for them. Fear had kept her from going out so far, but she had little choice now. She had to find her parents, or find food. She reached out, picking up her father's pocket watch and flipped it open. It was two in the afternoon which meant she had a few hours of daylight to spare. Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced at the door before her shoulders slumped resigned. She carefully hid her stuff away underneath some loose floorboards, and at the very top she laid the golden pocket watch. Carefully, she shifted the floorboards back into place and rose to her feet shakily. Clutching her stomach, the eight year old rose from the ground and stumbled out of the cabin. Today was slightly warmer than yesterday, the sun shining down from the down from the sky. The snow and ice had nearly melted away, but the wind was still enough cold enough to cut right through her. She shivered, and huddled in on herself as she started across the field.

_One foot in front of the other, and repeat. _She thought to herself, the dead grass crunching beneath the soles of her shoes. The wind nipped at her cheeks and nose turning them red while she reached into her pocket pulling out her compass. The glass had been cracked, but the dial still seemed to work. Hopefully, she thought, she would be able to find her way back to the cabin without too much trouble. She tapped at her temple that ached, and grimaced at the sight of yellowing bruises. She looked horrible, and when she got home she had a feeling her father was going to lock her in some tower declaring that she was never going outside again. The thought made her giggle lightly.

Elizabeth paused briefly at the edge of the forest, peering into its depths and a sudden wariness flooded through her. It was dark, even during the day for the tree were tall. Taller than any trees she had ever seen before and though they had no leaves, the thick branches were thick and overlap those of the neighboring trees effectively blocking most of the sunlight attempting to pour through. And there was no noise. Not a sound, just a silence so deep that if it were not for the noisy breaths rattling through her she would have thought she had gone deaf. It looked like the kind of forest that monsters would live in.

But monsters weren't real, daddy had told her so when he showed her the monster under her bed had been nothing but her green sweater so she had no reason to be afraid. With that comforting though, she moved forward into the forest. It was cooler underneath the shade of the trees, luckily though only the howl of the wind seemed to reach the forest and not the chill. A tiny sigh of relief went through her as she carefully made her way down the hill by using a large tree root that sloped downward like a rap. She held onto the tree trunk for balance while her eyes flickered around hoping to catching a glimpse of her parents or siblings or someone.

Unfortunately, all she saw were trees and shadows. Nervously, she played with her compass and finally she called out, "Mommy! Daddy!" She halted, and strained to hear for any shouts back. A hollow silence was her only reply, and it caused her stomach to twist into knots. Swallowing thickly, she blinked her eyes rapidly to keep the forming tears at bay. "Maggie! Christine!" She called for her older sisters. "Lisa!"

Again, silence was her only reply.

"Bradley!" She even called for her troll of a brother, but no shout came back. Just the never ending silence. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, and a part of started to believe they were never going to find her. An overcast billowed above stealing the faint glimmer of light in the forest, and the temperature around her began to plummet dramatically. The icing on the cake was the clap of thunder, and the staccato of rain came from the tree tops. Elizabeth groaned, she now understood why adults cursed so much.

She needed to head back. There was little use in looking for them now, or for berries. She had past many blackberry bushes, but alas due to the season there were none. It had been stupid of her to hope otherwise, and her hope dwindled down into nothing. She sniffled, and wiped her eyes off on the back of her sleeve. A breath shudder through her, and disheartened her shoulders slumped in defeat when suddenly there was a great howl echoing through the trees. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she froze in place her eyes darting around wildly. _Oh…oh, no, _she thought a split second before she broke on into a sprint. Her muscles pulled and strained as she ran as fast as her short legs would take her. Her pulse thumped in her throat, and fear spiked in her veins like jolts of lightning, and she heard the blood rushing past her ears. She had to get to the cabin, it was the only safe place she had. She could hide inside until the coyotes went away. Snarls and growls echoed from the shadows of the forest, from the parts that she could not see. That she did not want to see.

She leapt over tree roots, ripping her arms free of the branches that seemed to reach out and grab her. She shoved her way through a couple of bushes and she gave a cry of surprise because when she jerked free, her foot got snagged on a root. She fell and rolled down the hillside. Her body slammed, over and over against the ground and her fingernails bit down into the ground trying to keep a hold of something, but nothing worked. She kept sliding until she flopped face first into a nasty mud puddle. _Lovely,_ she gagged as nasty, muddy water filled her mouth. Her head throbbed from where it has smashed against a rock, and she groaned pitifully.

For several seconds, she couldn't summon up the energy to get up. _What was the use? _She thought miserably. She didn't know what alerted her that was something was wrong first. The hair on the nape of her neck rose warningly, or alarm went off inside her head but she knew she was in trouble when she heard a low, deep growl. Slowly, she pushed herself up onto all fours when she froze at the sight of great white paws not even ten feet away from. Elizabeth held her breath, and felt her entire body began to tremble.

_Don't look up, _her mind shouted. _Don't look at it._ If she didn't look at it then that mean that is wouldn't be real. But even as she thought this, her eyes started upward against her will. Slowly they inched up taking in the white beast. It was fearsome thing straight out of nightmares looking like a cross between a wolf and hyena. And if it weren't enough, upon the white beast sat a rider who was even more monstrous.

It wasn't human. There was no way it was human, with it's bleach white leathery skin that had red crisscross scars all over him. Ears that were pointed, and a pair of evil amber eyes that stared down malevolently at her from his stead. It cocked its head to the side studying her before saying something in a horrid and brutish language that sent shivers of fear spiraling down through her. Its voice was deep and terrible as its form.

Elizabeth trembled, literally paralyzed in fear and all she could was watch as the monster lumbered closer and closer. Her heartbeat roared in her heart like thunder as a scream built up in her throat, climbing high and high. Her mouth parted to release it, but she never got the chance. Something slammed down against the back of her head, and the world went black.

* * *

**2 Years Later**

The forest was filled with unease and unrest.

Whether this brought by the orcs and wargs, or phantom that villages spoke of in hushed voices and tones as if afraid it would appear by its mere mention, was not known. However, the unrest had spread up towards the river Bruinen that bordered Imladris and that was cause for worry. Two horses, one white and one copper, with riders cantered through the forest warily. The first rider was young and fair, but his eyes were ageless. His hair shined brighter than any gold and he sat tall and straight astride the white stead, draped in armor that shined like liquid silver in the moonlight. His beauty and pointed ears clearly showing that this was no mere mortal man, but one of the Eldar. An elf by the name of Glorfindel. "_There is a foul stench in the air_," he spoke, his musical voice holding grave undertones. _"We should proceed with caution, Elrond."_

Elrond was the polar opposite of the first, his long hair dark as night and though his face was ageless there was a heavy wisdom that sat upon his brow. His dark eyes held a knowing, and countless number of years. He adorned in an armor of crimson and silver, and two sword at either side of his waist. He, too, was of the Eldar and was one of the longest lived elves still upon Middle Earth. His eyebrows furrowed as he raked a keen and piercing stare through the forest. _"Agreed," _he murmured, for he too could feel and smell the stench of rot and decay tainting the forest. _"No dirweg." Be watchful._

"_Aren't I always?" _Glorfindel drawled, with a smirk turning up the edges of his lips ever so slightly.

The sky was clear and dark, with the faintest traces of daylight peeking over the horizon. The tree tops were thick, and green letting little starlight flitter down. The two treaded onward, ever wary. The forest held many shadows, and not all of them were the ones cast by the trees. Several minutes went by without incident, and just as Elrond was about to suggest the return to the rest of the patrol Asfaloth suddenly reared back violently.

Glorfindel let out a slight yelp (one that would Erestor would tease him mercilessly about for years to come), tightening his hold on his reins in order not to go flying off. His eyes were wide, visibly startled by his stead reactions. Elrond's brows furrowed as his own stead, Nahar, shifted restlessly. His eyes scanned the area for some sign of what startled the animals when he saw a dip in the forest floor. He tugged on the horse's reigns and ventured closer. Glorfindel trailing after him, after calming Asfaloth. The closer he got to it, the more Elrond realized that it was not a dip at all. It was a pit, and the stench of rot became stronger the closer he got.

"_By Eru," _Glorfindel's musically voice sounded strangled with shock as they came to a halt at the edge of the pit. _"Someone has been setting traps for the orcs."_

"_It indeed seems that way," _Elrond murmured, staring down at the body of an orc and warg who had fallen into the pit only to be impaled by tree limbs that had been sharpened into fine, deadly points. One could assume that this was the trap set up by a hunter, but Elrond studied the pit a little closer. The edges of the pit were jagged and uneven, dug in a hurry. This wasn't the work of a hunter. This was the work of someone desperate. _"Tread carefully. There may be more traps," _Elrond warned, lightly. The wind changed direction and swept toward the elves, causing both of them to stiffen. The horses snorted with alarm and tossed their heads.

"_We should leave our horses," _Glorfindel suggested. _"They are clearly unsettled. It would not do well if they were to buck one of us off."_

"_True," _Elrond conceded. Then with a smirk, he added, _"Or perhaps you're afraid you'll scream again."_

Glorfindel shot him a glare, and Elrond just looked at him with serene, composed expression. The blond elf muttered something under his breath about 'this is where the twins get it' before in one graceful movement, he dropped down from his stead. Elrond slid off of Nahar, his feet hitting the forest floor silently. Whispering to his stead to not wander far, Elrond glanced over at Glorfindel.

Elrond shot a wary glance around the forest before crouching down to make his way silently forward. His eyes narrowed into slits, seeing farther than any human could. He saw many things: a deer grazing a mile away, lighting bugs flying down preparing to sleep for a day and-his head jerked when he saw a shadow run through the trees about a quarter mile ahead. "_Nad no ennas_," Elrond whispered out, warningly. _Something is out there._

"_Man cenich?" _Glorfindel halted in step, glancing over at the dark haired elf who eyes narrowed at something in the distance. _What do you see?_

"_Shadows and movement," _Elrond replied. _"Though I cannot say of what."_

The two moved forward, stealthily using the trees and shadows to stay out of sight. They were growing closer to the shadows and movement when a familiar howl cut through the night followed by a shout.

"_Orcs," _Elrond breathed out. The shadow that Elrond had been following with his eyes was racing closer to them, and Elrond tensed preparing to draw his blade if necessary. Glorfindel had a throwing knife already in his palm, his blue eyes staring steadily forward waiting to strike.

Closer and closer the shadow came, and a warg's howl was not far behind. Twigs snapped, the rustle of leaves and the shadow burst forth from the tree line. Elrond jerked in surprise and shock, his heart skipping a beat in his chest for the shadow was not that of an orc like had been expected. It was a child! A young girl no older than ten annuals, dressed in dark brown rags that hung off her tiny, waif like frame. Bruises and cuts lined up and down her arms, and her face was hidden within the shadows of her natty, tangled hair. The child trembled, her head snapping from left to right, clearly searching for a way out.

And more startlingly than her appearance was the black, wet substance splattered upon her clothes. It was orc blood. _Fresh orc blood_, Elrond's eyes flickered to the tip of the small dagger held tightly in her right hand while her left hand was curled into her chest protectively. It too was stained with orc blood. The sudden realization crashed through his like ice through his veins. This girl was the one whom set up the traps.

Fear and desperation was present in ever breath she took, and a silent scream fell from her lips when an orc smashed through the trees right after her. She whirled around, and stumbled backwards as the orc gave her a dark, toothy smile that promised all sorts of horrible things. He stepped forth, a whip in his hand and a warg flanking his side. "Now, now, come here, poppet," the orc gestured for the girl to come to him.

She shook her head back and forth rapidly, and held up her knife as her last line of defense. The orc began to approach, enjoying the child's helplessness and he cracked the whip. The end slashed through the air, and the girl cried out throwing herself backwards to avoid being hit. The warg snarled, and leapt forward intent on devouring its prize.

With a burst of speed, Elrond leapt forward drawing out his blade and slammed it straight into the side of the warg sending them both to the ground. The warg let out one last snarl before going limp on the ground, and in one smooth motion, Elrond had rolled to his feet. Black blood splattered to the ground as Glorfindel wielding his blade with a lethal precision felling the orc before he could even let out a shout.

The orc's body fell to the ground with a thud, and hush fell over the forest. For several seconds the only sound was the harsh breathing of the child who still laid on her back on the forest floor. She stared at the two elves with wide eyes, and her lips parted in surprise. She pulled herself into a sitting position, looking like a frightened deer about to bolt.

"Easy, child," Elrond replied, soothingly in Weston. The little girl froze, not daring to draw a breath as her eyes wide as she stared at him unblinking, in fear. She was thin, too thin, the rags that she wore as clothes were hanging off of her. Her skin was held a sickly pale tint to it, and her brown hair was matted and tangled with more than a few leaves sticking in it. His dark eyes raked over her, and it was not hard to tell that this child had been hurt and badly. "I will not hurt you."

A shaky breath rattled through the girl's tiny body, and her jaw shook while a broken look shot through her gaze as she shook her head back and forth slightly. A look of someone too afraid to hope, and it struck Elrond on several levels. No child should ever have suffered as this one had. "Can you speak?" He asked, gently. He knelt down on one knee where he was almost on level with her to appear less imposing, and he held out his hands in front of him palms straight up in an effort to show her that he meant no ill will.

The little girl bit her lip, and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position against the tree. She curled her legs towards her chest, and put a little bit most distance between herself and Elrond. Her eyes stared at him from underneath the mess of hair, like an animal waiting for the predator to strike and Elrond frowned when he noticed a dark onyx stemming out from the center of her green eyes. It was strange, and unnatural, but before he had time to ponder it further the girl spoke. Her voice was rough and hoarse, and her words were strange.

Elrond's brow furrowed, for the words weren't of any language he knew. The syllables were similar to Weston, Elrond noted with a light frown. However, the meaning behind the words were clear. She did not understand them. He looked over at Glorfindel, who too looked puzzled. Elrond reached out, and the girl flinched back. Her pulse jumped in her throat, and her breaths quickened. _"Careful," _Glorfindel whispered, softly.

"_I always am," _Elrond retorted, lightly. He had to be cautious. The child had been through a lot, and could easily lash out. If she did that, she would only end up hurting herself more and Elrond shuddered at the thought of what she had already endured. He continued to inch forward, and the girl just stared at him frightened.

She said a word, it was a plea. Her chin wobbled, and tears filled her eyes. Elrond's heart broke for the young one, but he kept inching closer at a snail's pace. The girl kept repeating the word over and over again, shaking her head and clenched her eyes closed, curling in on herself. Sobs wracked her tiny frame, as Elrond could feel the fear coming off of her in waves. He regretted putting her into such distress, but her wounds needed tending too. And no just the physical ones. When his hand came to rest on her shoulder, Elrond almost jolted backwards. His dark eyes widening in shock, and his lips parted in surprise. The girl's soul had markings on it. One dark, cold like an unforgiving stone twisting and burning through her spirit threatening to hollow her out from within. The other was the exact opposite. It was a warmth, a breath of life and a strength that could only be outshined by the everlasting mountains. He did not understand the marks upon the child's essence meant, or what would become of them but they were troubling. The girl hiccupped, her cheeks stained with tears as she pressed herself into the tree trying to become one with it to get away from Elrond.

Elrond looked down at her mournfully, his heart strings tugged. _"Shhh, child, all will be well. You'll see,_" he promised, slowly placing his hands on each side of her temples and pressing down with his thumb. Instantly, he was hit by a swarm of emotion-fear, pain, hope, longing all twisted within a horrible image of fire and ash-before the child went limp out cold. He released a long breath, and a shudder rippled down his spine. This child…had been through terrible things, and it seemed that fate was not quite finished just yet. _"All will be well," _he repeated his promise as he lifted the child into his arms with ease. _"All will be well."_

He certainly hoped so.

* * *

**90 years later**

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

The pocket watch in her breast pocket felt heavy, like a constant weight tugging at her trying to pull her down. She walked through the streets of Bree, the moonlight guiding her path. The stench from the wet streets made her mourn the lack of plumbing. Some cities, larger ones had plumbing. Elves had better plumbing than the cities of man, however Bree was not a large city and no it did not have plumbing. It had chamber pots which they dumped in the streets at the end of the day, and if she could have avoided walking in the streets at this particular time of night though she supposed it wasn't much better trudging through it during the day either, but the smell was worse right now.

She wanted to use the forges, to try her hand at it because working with her hands always reminded of her father. He carved wood, he crafted metal, he did all he could with his hands saying that he was given them for a reason. It was one of the only ways she knew how to stay true to his memory in her heart, because the ones in her mind were fading with every passing day. All of her memories were fading, of all of them. It's why she fought so hard to keep them alive in anyway she could, though songs because her sisters thought they were the next big band. Through art because her mother painted, and her brother drew. However, the blacksmith simply laughed at her. Apparently, men thought women were only for making babies and raising them. Elves, dwarves, and hobbits were better towards their woman folk, but there was still a certain amount of restrictions still placed upon most women. Sad fact was that it was a man's world here. It was a difficult concept for someone born in the 21st century. It pissed her off, but she held back her tongue.

_Pick your battles, _her mother always said. Or had it been her father? Whichever of her parents it might have been the notion stayed with her. Dealing with stupid people was a pointless battle, it was like arguing with a table and expecting the table to talk back which was impossible. Unless there was a wizard involved. Could wizards make tables talk? Next time, she ran into one she would have to remember to ask. With a simple nod to the inn keeper, she walked up the creaky stairs to her room and as soon as the door closed behind her, she flopped face first into her bed. Rolling her tense shoulders, she let out a long sigh and her eyes slid closed ready to fall straight into a dreamless sleep when a strange smell tickled her nose.

A smoke, but with a sweet and sharp smell to it. _Old Toby! _She thought, her body tensing and she slowly craning her neck, so one eye peeked out from the long curtain of her hair. There sitting on chair facing the fireplace, calmly puffing on a pipe draped from head to toe in grey with a pointy hat to top it off was none other than Gandalf the Grey watching her with a merry twinkle in his eye. She laid there for a long moment, staring at him with one wide eye before she bounced off the bed and headed towards the door. "No, no, no, no," she shook her head back and forth.

Gandalf heaved a sigh. "Elizabeth."

"No." Elizabeth Morgan looked like a young woman of about twenty and five years old which was an a lie. She was much, much older than her appearance gave away. Elizabeth's porcelain skin gleaming like snow, and it made the dark circles underneath her eyes stand out even more. Her eyes were a vivid cobalt that seemed to glow with some inner light with obsidian stems shooting out from the pupils all the way to the edge of the iris. They were unnatural and inhuman and even she shuddered when catching sight of them. "No. I will not be going on an adventure with you."

"Elizabeth Morgan…"

"Don't Elizabeth Morgan me," Elizabeth looked at him, affronted. That last time she had given into one of his hair brained schemes she had ended up the size of a match, and inside of Erestor's pocket until the spell had worn off. Needless to say, she hadn't traveled with Gandalf since. Orc and wargs she could deal with, beings almost squashed by being sat on by an elf was not.

"Just hear me out, hmm?" Gandalf quirked up an eyebrow, while pulling something out of his bag. "I brought you an offering of peace," he said, sitting the pomegranate down on the table.

Elizabeth stared at it with wide eyes. It was a rarity to find a pomegranate in these parts, along with oranges and bananas. They were quite the luxury and very hard to get unless you liked traveling great distances. Gandalf was such a person, and damn him, he knew Elizabeth had a weakness for pomegranates. She gave him a grudging look while raising a speculative eyebrow. Gandalf looked decidedly wary, and there was a grimness about him that his genial smile couldn't quite dispel. "Alright," she agreed, a tad concern. "I'll hear you out, but I promise nothing."

Taking the other chair, she took the pomegranate and peeled it open. She offered the wizard half of it, but Gandalf shook his head lightly. Pick a couple of seeds and tossing them into her mouth savoring the tart flavor, she asked, "What do you need of me, Gandalf?"

Gandalf let out a low hum, shifting to get more comfortable in his chair and let out a puff of smoke. "There is a quest. It is dangerous, and most believe it to be impossible to accomplish," the wizard began, somberly.

"Isn't that what they say about all quest?" Elizabeth's lips quirked up into a half smile.

Gandalf snorted lightly. "True, true. But this quest is one of grave importance and I believe could shape the very future of Middle Earth with its outcome," the wizard said, exhaling a smoke ring that twisted in midair and became eagle that soared straight into the flickering flames. He always did love to be very dramatic, Elizabeth repressed a snort. "I also believe…that it might have the answers that you seek."

That made Elizabeth pause. "You mean…" Her voice hesitated, and her blue eyes peered up at him in something akin to shock. "You mean about the curse?" Her arrival to Middle Earth had been under mysterious circumstances, ones that were never fully explained to her. The elves called her 'chosen', Gandalf called her 'cursed'. She wasn't certain she wanted to be called either of those things. She always had a nagging feeling that Gandalf had always known more than he let on, but he held it back. Whether out of fear for her, or because of her, she was not for certain.

Gandalf gave a small nod.

For as long as she had been in Middle Earth, she had been plagued with dreams of fire and death. Some dreams she was an observer, helpless to stop the chaos around. Some dreams she was being hunted, chased down by the creature born of flames intent on burning her alive or worse. Other times, she was one of the people in the street running for their life-a mother desperately trying to shield her child, a daughter screaming for her father, a man protecting his love-but the fact was, all her dreams ended in fire and death. And when Elizabeth awoken, she had the taste of ash on her tongue, the smell of smoke burnt in her nostrils and burns upon her skin. The healers at Rivendell did all they could for her, which wasn't much. A salve for the burns so they wouldn't scar, and some medicine for a dreamless sleep that she only took when it got really bad because it was apparently highly addictive.

"How?" Elizabeth chewed on a pomegranate seed thoughtfully. "What does this quest entail exactly?"

"Meet me at Bag End in a fortnight which should be no trouble for you since that it where you were already headed," Gandalf said, tapping the remnants out of his pipe into the fireplace before stowing it into his cloak.

"Bilbo's?" Elizabeth's eyes widened a moment. She didn't bother ask how he knew she was heading to Bag End, Gandalf always seemed to know everything. An annoying habit of his, he knew too much, shared too little and what he did share he shared in the form of riddles or explanations that really didn't answer anything at all. And despite her great respect and friendship with the wizard, there was always a part of her wary when it came to him. Especially when he planned to get those she cared about involved in his meddlesome schemes.

She had kept in touch with the Baggins family ever since Gandalf bid her to go help the Shire during the Fell Winter. She ventured back from time to time, but the memory that stuck out was Belladonna's passing. Her heart could no longer bear to be without Bungo's who had died eight years prior during the Fell Winter, and the near fatal injury she herself had endured at the hands of rabid wolves. Her vibrant, adventurous spirit that made Elizabeth instantly friends with Belladonna faded, and poor Bilbo who had just turned of age was alone.

Elizabeth glared at Gandalf suspiciously. "Why Bag End?" She asked, her fingers gripping the pomegranate too tightly and the juice from the seeds spilt down her fingers. "The Shire is not generally open to strangers, nor do I imagine Bilbo to have any inclination to get into the hornet's nest you no doubt intend to stir. Perhaps he would have before his parents' deaths, but now…I've tried everything to get him to go on an adventure. He told me to take that kind of attitude west of Bree and to put it to good use there."

Gandalf chuckled lightly. "He has Belladonna's sass then," the wizard said, a fondness on his face.

"Aye, and her spirit given the right circumstance I'm sure," Elizabeth murmured, her lips turned downward. She was rather protective of Bilbo, that was no great secret and he was one she would call family. Only handful of people had come to be held in such high esteem by her. "But he has settled into the life of a _respectable," _she really tried to the derisive tone out of the word, but failed much to Gandalf's amusement, "hobbit. And he is quite content."

"But not happy," Gandalf commented. "And neither are you."

"This quest is supposed to make us happy?" Elizabeth asked, blandly with an eyebrow arch in vague amusement as she chewed the pomegranate seeds between her teeth.

"Elizabeth, imprudence does not become you," the wizard said, sternly. His blue eyes held no trace of amusement, and he looked a bit offended.

Feeling mildly chastised, Elizabeth's lips pursed in a pout. "I'm just trying to understand what you mean. You aren't being exactly forth coming here," she said, sending him a mild glare. "Then again when are you ever?" Elizabeth hissed, underneath her breath. Gandalf snorted, looking as if he were contemplating whether to be offend or smug at that statement.

A sigh was expelled from her lips. Her right hand twinge in pain, a constant reminder of the affliction that plagued her. In her mind's eyes, she saw a city set aflame and thunderous roar echoing in the air. A monster made of scales and blood made of fire, with eyes-such horrible eyes filled with hatred and malice-and the deafening screams. With a hiss, Elizabeth shook her head pulling herself free from the images and let out a shaky breath.

The curse was getting stronger. The visions and spells were becoming worse. The nightmares coming every night and seemingly never ending. She had honestly contemplated going to Rivendell for help, but her heart squeezed painfully at the thought. It was a bit like a runaway going home, and that wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. Her heart felt like a heavy weight in her chest, and she gnawed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I'll go to Bag End, hear you out but I make no promises of going along…however," Elizabeth suddenly bargained, and she raised her head to look him straight in the eye, "you give me the answers I want regardless."

The wizard sank slightly in his chair, looking all of his years in the briefest of seconds before he straightened his spine. "Elizabeth, dear," he began, but Elizabeth interrupted him.

"No, you said if I came that I might get my answers, but I can't do this for a maybe, Gandalf. I am so sick of the maybes, and the half assed explanations and the 'one day you'll understand it all'," she said, her unnatural eyes flaring with some inner light. She looked at the wizard, her expression tired and she tossed the rest of her fruit into the flames because her stomach twisted in knots. "Ninety years, Gandalf. Ninety years," she said, her voice trembling over the words as emotions she had long shoved under a mask of aloofness and sarcasm. "To an elf or wizard that may be the blink of an eye, but for a human it is a lifetime. My life should have already been spent, I should have parted from the lands leaving nothing but a corpse six feet under but instead I'm froze like this," she gestured to herself. "I have no answers as to why. Why am I like this? Why did I stop aging? Why was I brought to Middle Earth? And I know you have some of these answers, Gandalf, but I know not why you do not share them with me."

Gandalf's beard twitched, like he was torn between being amused by her petulance or slapping her over the head with staff that she was certain wasn't in his hand a second ago. "Answers…I fear the answers I would give would only leave you with more questions than be helpful at all," the wizard said, he rose from his chair gracefully. "You will have you answers, Miss Morgan, but I warn you…not all who seek like what they find."

Elizabeth leveled him with a dry look, her lips twitching the only indication of her amusement. "I have to wonder…were you born this cryptic, or is it an art that you've mastered over time?" She asked, crossing her arms languidly over her chest. "Honestly, you should consider giving lessons."

Gandalf just gave her a mysterious smirk before sweeping out the door, letting it close behind him on a whisper. Elizabeth stared at it for a long time before she slowly turned her gaze back to the flames. She sat there for a long time, staring at the blaze until there was nothing left, but embers. Her mind racing wildly, and it was hard to concentrate and her brows pinched displeased. The idea of another adventure made her stomach turn. Ever since she had ended up in Middle Earth, and all that happened to her…with the orcs-she swallowed thickly and shuddered-then the elves…

She heaved a sigh, placing her head in her hands. Some days she wanted answered, others she couldn't stomach the thought of them. It had been ninety years. Ninety long years where she had been pitted in a long battle against herself, her mind logically telling her to let go of the past, but her heart held on tightly. Her heart was like a stone, ever enduring. She remembered a sunny day in Lothlórien where Lady Galadriel took her hands in hers, and those eyes full of brightness, wisdom and sorrow looked into hers and she said, _"You have to endure it. Where others will crumble, under the weight and beneath the hands of time, you have to endure like the very mountain themselves…"_

Elizabeth hadn't understood what Galadriel meant by that, but she often spoke in riddled, more so than Gandalf. Her eyes absentmindedly glanced over her fingernails, shining in the firelight like diamonds another reminder of her curse. Her heart fell heavy in her chest, and she let out a long breath. Could she really find her answers? After al this time? After she had spent half of her life trying to hold onto the memories, and the other half running so far from it? When Elizabeth finally fell asleep, it was an uneasy sleep filled with fire, death and screams.

* * *

**RRs are appreciated. Thank you all for reading!**

**I will put up a timeline at the end of the next chapter, so you'll be able to see when everything is supposed to take place and aren't quite lost with the time jumps here.**

**1.) Nahar** was the legendary horse ridden by Oromë, the Huntsman of the Valar. Nahar's coat was said to be white under the Sun, but to shimmer in silver in the night,[1] and his feet were shod in gold. (Obviously Elrond's horse is not meant to be the same one, but I could not find the name for Elrond's horse in the book so I chose that name.)


	4. To A Hobbit's House She Goes

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.**

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

I want to thank BloodBlackAlchemist, Gingah18, LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, chrisd1016929, dianaemrys15, nbowles, Goalphabeticalorder, MYSTERYGEEK, Neewa, ThaliaHuntressGrace, Tiryn, aeriestar, , MissVanora, Prost, TerribleSuccubus, izatelles, jorja85, SprinklingStardust0596, Voletta97, gallant2195, Zinverai, and THE WALKING sexy AMC for the follows! Thank you!

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, MissVanora and Goalphabeticalorder, jorja85, Voletta97, gallant2195, and DrAnime203 for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, Guest, TerribleSuccubus, and Prost.

**If I missed anyone just shout out at me in a review, or PM. :D**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest: **Thank you! :D

* * *

"Regular Talking"

'_Thought will be set up like this.'_

"_Elvish words and translation will be in italic." I've tried to use as much elvish from reliable sights as I could to get an authentic feel. Some things I don't have elvish for, but they will still be in italics so consider it elvish."_

**I struggled a bit with this chapter, on top of my dog having a heart attack (she's good now, she'll have to be on medicine for the rest of her life, but she's back to herself playing and cuddling), I ended up writing it out three different ways and in the end, I wanted to set up the sibling relationship between Bilbo and Elizabeth, and then wanted to bring in one dwarf at the end. You'll probably guess him just by his description. **

Anyways I want to thank you all for the support. I'm really happy with the turn out for this story! :D

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**CHAPTER FOUR**

"**To A Hobbit's House She Goes"**

**T.A. 2911 Winterfall**

**The Shire**

White. For as far as the eye could see.

A sea of ice and snow showering down from the dark grey clouds billowing above, and it seemed never ending. A Fell Winter had fallen over the Shire, and it had come bearing no mercy. It started out as a great chill, sweeping down from the north carried upon foreboding dark clouds. It came too soon, too sudden. Stealing and destroying the majority of the crops that would have tided them over for the winter, and the hobbits were so unprepared. They scrambled trying to get firewood, to preserve the food for as long as they could even if it meant cutting down the seven meals into three. They had thought that was the worst and then the Brandywine had froze over.

And wolves descended upon the Shire.

And on the curtails of the wolves, came the orcs and wargs.

Screams and howls filled the night and the nightmares of every hobbit. And it was not just the chill that sent shivers down Bilbo Baggins's spine as he curled into the tree, trying to block the wind and hide from any wolves-or worse-that were lurking out in the white.

His parents and him were making their way to Brandybuck Hall, the only safe haven in the Shire after the last of their supplies dwindled down. In the white blizzard storm, they held each others hands trying to hurry when howls, he had jumped. Gotten scared and jerked his hand out of his mother's. He grasped, and cried out, trying to find her again.

But in his panic, he had gotten lost. He heard their shouts, but it had become lost in the howling wind and their shadows lost in the white snow. The pain in his limbs was a freezing burn, and it was the only thing keeping him awake. The unblemished stretch of white had numbed his mind, and he was lying there in a daze. For a long time, he sat there clinging to that tree hearing phantom voice rising in the wind.

He was delirious, he thought hysterically. He had lost track of the time, the minutes felt like eternity and yet at the same time like nothing at all. He feared he would never seen the end of this winter, never see home again…never see his parents…The twenty one year old hobbit sobbed, his tears frozen against his cheeks. When he saw a deer trekking through the storm, it took him several seconds to comprehend the sight before him. It was the first deer he had seen since the winter had begun.

His vision began to go dark at the edges and his head bobbed up and down. The deer stared at him for a seconds longer before bounding away. Through the waves of fatigue and weakness he thought he saw a flash of green in the sea of white, like an ivy vine striding towards him. His felt his eyes close, and blackness engulfed him for many seconds then jolted when he felt two hands on his shoulders. At first, all he saw was green, then his eyes focused on the face beneath the green cowl. A pair of eyes, with unnatural black stems and vivid blues and yellow, staring down at him kindly. He saw the woman's mouth, she was far too fair to be a man, move, but he couldn't hear a word she said. The hood of her green cloak covered her hair, and he reached up to touch the cloth. "You're not a plant," he stated, bluntly.

The woman smiled, a light laugh falling from her lips. "Indeed I am not," she said, her head cocking to the side. "But you are the hobbit Bilbo Baggins yes?"

"Yes…?" Bilbo felt very confused. "Who…who are you?"

"A friend."

And Bilbo's world went dark.

* * *

**T.A. 2941 Springston**

**The Shire**

Many years had come and gone, but the Shire seemed impervious to time. Grassy hills as far as the eye could see, and the utter sense of peace one could find just by simply strolling on through. Those who inhabited this land were called hobbits. Short, pointy eared and hairy feet beings who lived in holes. Not dirty, worm filled holes like everyone believe. Hobbits were right were right and proper. Bilbo Baggins was such an a hobbit. He was as hobbitish as a hobbit could be, with his curly blond hair, pointed ears and modest clothing (not to mention his hairy feet, can't be a hobbit without hairy feet). He took comfort in the simple things such as smoky his Old Toby and food. There was only one slight thing that made Bilbo different from any of the other hobbits, and it was kind of a big deal. Not to him, but others in the Shire (cough cough Lobelia) it was.

With a shake of his head, Bilbo banished his not so beloved cousin from his mind, closing his eyes slipping off into a deep reprieve. Today he was going to relax, and enjoy it and not spare them another thought. He inhaled from his pipe and immediately he felt himself unwind and slumped upon the bench. He breathed out, forming a perfect smoke ring if he did say so himself. It drew upward, further and further then the most peculiar thing happened. The smoke transformed into a smoke moth, that fluttered around. Bilbo sat unaware of what was going until the smoke moth, flew into his face. Bilbo lets out a little gasp of surprise and sputtered in an undignified manner. He abruptly halted when he noticed a shadow looming over him, and he looked up to see a man-impossible tall at that-draped in grey cloak, and with a pointed hat on top of his head. He stood with a staff clasped in his hands, and he looked down at Bilbo with a strange twinkle in his eye.

Bilbo stared, perturbed up at the face and he felt a bit uncomfortable underneath such a knowing stare. However uncomfortable he was, he still was polite. "Good morning," he said, giving the man a half-hearted attempt at a smile. He glanced inside the house and wished his friend would be out here soon giving him a reason to get away without appearing impolite.

"What do you mean?" The old man said, tilting his head and giving Bilbo a calculating glance while his lips twitched up into a pleasant smile. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning?" The man's smile widened when Bilbo looked more and more perplexed. "Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

Bilbo paused, his brows furrowing ever so slightly as his smile fell into a confused frown. "All…of them at once I suppose," he said, uncertainly. He is even more bewildered when the man looked down at him with a hint of disapproval in his grey eyes. Bilbo nervously fiddled with his pipe, and asked, "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen," the old man said, his voice almost a whisper. He drew himself upward, and smiled at the hobbit. "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

"An adventure?" Bilbo's eyes widened before he could help himself and he felt a brief spark of interest rise in his chest. Then he realized what he was doing, and schooled his expression into a scowl. "Now, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things," he said, adding a condescending note to his voice to hide the slight tremble that went through him. Perhaps, she was right and he was more like his mother than he cared to admit.

_No! No! Absolutely not! _He quickly rose from his bench and made his way to the mailbox. "Make you late for dinner," he added, pulling the mail out of the mailbox. He looked through the mail, trying to appear busy and he sends shifty glances at the old man who was still standing there waiting ever patiently. "Well…well…good morning," Bilbo repeated, and turned to head back inside.

He heard a huff from the old behind him. "To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son," the old man grumbled, hiding a smile when Bilbo halted in step, "as if I were selling buttons at the door."

He froze as still as a statue, his heart sputtered in his chest at the mention of his mother. Slowly Bilbo turned back around. "I'm sorry," he said, with a light frown. "Do I know you?"

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means…me," the old man finished, with a slightly sheepish.

"Gandalf…" the name sparked something within Bilbo's memory of fireworks bursting in the night sky and it all came rushing back. "Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard, who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve!" He grinned slightly, and then his mouth kept running before he could stop it. "I have no idea you were still in business."

Gandalf had looked pleased until that came out of the hobbits mouth, and the wizard stared at him with an indignant expression. "And where else would I be?" He asked, arching a brow.

Bilbo opened his mouth, a sheepish blush staining his cheeks and he looked down at his hairy feet which had suddenly become all the more interesting.

"Well," Gandalf huffed lightly, "I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks." The wizard turned back to the hobbit and smiled. "Well, that's decided. It will be very good for you…for both of you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who?" Bilbo's eyes narrowed suspicious while he shifted on his feet, torn between staying to interrogate the wizard or going to help his friend. "What? No. No." He gestured at the wizard wildly with his pipe. "No! We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not…" He made his way to his door. "I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water. Good morning."

He hurried inside and shut the door behind him. He let out a shaky breath and leaned against his door, while wiping his sweating brow. That's when he heard a curious noise, and he turned to press his ear against the door. Bilbo went to look out the side window, only to find Gandalf's eyes appear in front of him. He gave a cry of fright and jumped to hide behind a wall. He stayed there a few minutes, before he dared glance out another window.

This time he saw the wizard hurrying away, and relief poured through him. He slumped releasing a sigh, Bilbo leaned on his desk and his fingers brushing along the spine of a book that funny enough was about adventures. Now that he thought about it, most of his books were of adventures. He looked down at the book, a whimsical smile playing on his lips before he forced it away with a rough shake of his head. "Adventures," he spat, marching through his house. "I have no need of adventures."

Too bad that fate seemed to disagree with Bilbo.

* * *

Elizabeth had left Bree days ago, and was trekking across the countryside towards the Shire. She took the ferry across the Brandywine and walked for several hours, across plains and through the woods until evening fell. She camped near a thicket, and watched the moon until she fell asleep. A nightmare, vicious and unyielding, plagued her that night. Of a all consuming fire, and screams and she remembers a child crying,hugging the wooden toy ever closer to his chest, then there was a great roar, a large shadow against the sky and the tower above came crashing down then…then Elizabeth woke up, choking on a scream. Her eyes were wide and wild as she looked around the forest half expecting it to be engulfed in flames. She sat there as still as a statue for several seconds until the cool air slowly settled upon her skin, cooling her down.

A breath shuddered through her loosening her limbs as she sank back against her bedroll, and closed her eyes against the fresh wave of tears. These nightmares were tearing her apart. Opening her eyes as a jolt of pain sear up her right arm, she glanced at it with disdain before shaking her head lightly. Pushing herself up, she started to gather her things together at a leisurely pace. She slung her pack over her shoulder, her quiver on the other and kept her bow on hand in case anything came along. A soft dawn was creeping over everything, and before the shadows were fully chased away, when she began to walk once more. The Shire was secluded place, few traveled there except merchants and traders. The hobbits tended to keep to themselves, preferring the company of their own to outsiders for a variety of reasons.

The village was composed of smails-or hobbit holes, in lameman's terms-that were built into the hillsides. At first glance, it was easy to overlook them. At second glance, one could see the round colorful doors and the early morning light gleamed off the windows.

The air was fragrant from the sweet smell of flower and crisp scent of freshly cut grass. The sun shined brightly, and there was not a single cloud in the sky. Their was little doubt that the valley and it's people were blessed by the Green Lady. The Shire was the picture of a perfect day, and yet, Elizabeth could not shake the phantom chill that shuddered down her spine. A ghost from the fell winter that couldn't be fully dispelled, no matter how much the green plains, and serene air of the Shire tried to bring her peace. She walked down the road at a leisurely pace, her quiver hanging from her hip and her bow secured to her back. Her blue eyes raked across the landscape taking the many hobbit homes along the path. Her lips quirked up in a smile as a group of fauntlings rushed past her, their laughter contagious.

Elizabeth heard men talking loudly about the upcoming Green Lady festival, while the wives traded the latest gossip with each other as well as recipes and gardening tips. Elizabeth wove her way past the hobbits, ignoring the whispers that sprung up in her wake. The sun was bright and vivid, and was pleasantly warm. Then a voice cried out, "Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth turned just in time to catch a familiar set of brown curls before the hobbit threw her arms around Elizabeth esthetically, and laughed merrily all the while. "Primula!" She wrapped her arms, and hugged the hobbit tightly.

Primula Brandybuck was one of the few hobbits that Elizabeth was fond of. The young woman was free spirited, and kind and always found the silver lining. "It is so good to see you! We've missed you," Primula said, pulling back. "Where have you been?" She demanded, with a mock scolding tone and hands on her hips.

"Everywhere and anywhere," Elizabeth replied, not missing a beat. "And I've have missed you as well."

"Of course you would miss me, who wouldn't?" Primula said, sassily.

Elizabeth laughed, then her expression then fell into something more serious. "Be honest with me, Prim, how is he?" Her eyes glanced in the direction of Bag End, leaving no question as to whom she was inquiring about.

"He is well. A bit of a hermit as always, but he was at the market the other day and appeared to be in good spirits," Primula stated, quietly. "He has been worried, you know? It had been a long time since your last letter, and well, he worries."

Guilt lanced through her and she grimaced. "Yeah, I know," she said, with a slight nod. Her eyes lingered on Bag End for a long moment, and she let out a deep sigh. "I know," she repeated a bit more quietly. The two chatted for a few moments, before parting ways and Elizabeth made her way up to Bag End. Sometimes she thought of staying here in the Shire with Bilbo, but restless soul could not be content with staying in one place.

Or perhaps she hadn't found a place that captured her heart yet. Many said she was infected by Wanderlust, however that implied she was lost. The truth was Elizabeth never felt lost. She felt…incomplete not lost, as strange as that sounded. Raising her hand, she nodded on the green door and didn't exactly get the response she had been expecting. Instead, she heard hands slam hastily against the other side of the door and fumble with the locks. "Go away! We have no need of fireworks, mad wizard, or adventures here!" Bilbo's voice came from the other side of the door, loud and more than a little distressed.

Elizabeth stood there for a moment, her mouth comically agape and her hand hanging in the air before she blinking wildly. "Fireworks, mad wiz…" she repeated the words, then the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes flickered down the rune that glowed upon the freshly painted door, and let out a tiny sigh. Gandalf must have gotten here first and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Then what about old friends?" Elizabeth called out, after a long moment.

Silence ticked by for several seconds before a metallic click filled the air, and the freshly painted door was hastily pulled open. Bilbo stood there, his expression pinched and his eyes narrowed until they fell upon her. Instantly, his frown smoothed out into a smile and he looked more than a little relieved.

"Elizabeth," he breathed out, breathlessly.

Elizabeth smiled.

* * *

The had settled into Bag End, and Bilbo had brought out scones and snacks while Elizabeth got a kettle going for Bilbo to try some tea that she brought from Gondor. "So," Bilbo began as he sat down in his favorite chair and Elizabeth sat adjacent from him, gently taking the tea cup from him. "Where have you all been this time? What have you been doing?"

"Oh, nothing too exciting," Elizabeth admitted, a bit sheepishly. "It's been rather quiet these last few months. A couple of times I went on hunts with the Rangers in Bree, a brief time spent in Gondor, and a visit from a wizard-"

"A wizard?" Bilbo did a double take.

"Gandalf the Grey." Judging by the way Bilbo's face paled then quickly flushed of anger, Elizabeth was betting Gandalf did not make a great impression on the hobbit. She stifled a chuckle as Bilbo sputtered and tried to come up with the words while she smother blueberry jam on a scone with her forefinger.

"You _know_ that wizard?" Bilbo looked scandalized. He was still a perturbed by this mornings dealing with the wizard. Though he supposed it shouldn't be surprising that Elizabeth knew the wizard with all her travels.

"Do you want your original question answered or not?" Elizabeth avoided the question, without batting an eyelash. The little hobbit would not be pleased to know that she knew Gandalf was up to something and trying to involve him. Though she was puzzled as to who these 'others' Gandalf were bringing along, and could not deny that it left her a bit anxious. "Or do you wish me to list off every person I've ever met?" She continued on, smoothly with her lips quirked into a half smile.

"Sorry," Bilbo said. He dipped his head, looking a tad bit contrite, but the yearning for knowledge was shining too bright in his eyes to be disguised.

"No, you aren't," Elizabeth noted, amused. She shifted her gaze until she was watching the flames licking the underside of the kettle. "You hide behind your father's manners all you want, but you and I both know that you are as impertinent are your mother."

"Pot. Kettle," Bilbo shot the words at her.

She laughed. "Of course, I am. I know how to be little else," she said, her half smile turning into a broad grin. "Now where was I…hmm," her brows pinched in thought. "Oh, yes. I had a visit from Gandalf…that I'm not honestly sure was all that helpful." She heard Bilbo snort, and mutter unflattering things underneath his breath before she continued, "And I spent a bit of time in Bree, doing odds and ends."

The kettle went off with a loud whistle interrupting further conversation until Bilbo picked it up with a mitten, and poured the boiling water into both of their cups.

"The tea leaves won't need to seep long, so drink up before the flavor become too strong," she warned, before blowing on her own cup before relaxing back into the chair. Bilbo sipped it and found the taste to be a bit sweet, but not entirely unpleasant.

"What made you decide to come and visit?" Bilbo asked, quietly.

"Coming to visit is always on my mind," Elizabeth commented, lightly. "Bag End is one of the few places I feel completely safe, but I…it's hard to stay here."

Bilbo blinked. "Why?" He asked.

_Because it's not home,_ she thought, but she dare not say it. Elizabeth just gave him a sad smile and sipped her tea, gently. Bag End and Rivendell were almost home. Almost, but there…was something about them that left her empty. "I don't know. My mother used to say I had a wanderer's heart, maybe it's true," she answered, with a smile and shrug.

"I think you think you're better off alone," Bilbo theorized. "It's seems easier that way for you. And you've been hurt," Bilbo stated, fiercely. "Yes, I noticed. All wrapped up where no one could see them, but I see the edges of the bandages sticking out of your tunic."

"Sometimes I forget how observant you are," Elizabeth said, giving him a sidelong look with a rueful smile upon her lips. She shifted, wincing at the soreness in her limbs. A couple of wolves had descended upon, and even though she came out the victor, she hardly came out completely unscathed.

"Hmmm. Do you think you will ever give it up?" Bilbo asked. "The whole adventuring?"

"Not for all the gold in the world. It makes a difference, what I do. Maybe not a big one, a noticeable one that will songs or poems written about, but it is still a difference," she said, her eyes flickering towards the window as the sound of children's laughter rang out. "At least, it does to me."

Bilbo stared at her for a long moment, taking in her wistful expression and found himself smiling fondly. "I suppose it does," he said, softly. "Now, let me take a look at your wounds."

"They are fine," Elizabeth shrugged.

"Uh-uh," the hobbit stated, unconvinced. He stood up from his chair, and walked over the cupboard. Pulling it open, he looked through the jars and searched for the salves he always kept around just in case of a gardening accident. "But let me check for my peace of mind, hmm? Besides, you need someone to take care of you since you clearly aren't."

She gave him a dry look. "Pot. Kettle."

Bilbo had the nerve to look smug.

* * *

Bilbo was in a deep peaceful when a scream jolted him awake. Heart racing a million miles a minute, he kicked off his blankets and stumbled when another groaning scream tore through the silence of bag end. He looked glancing down the hallway, towards the red door that was sealed shut and his eyes filled with worry. He shuffled quietly across his wooden floor, and he reached the bedroom door. He heard sounded of a struggle, and he winced in sympathy.

"Elizabeth…" he hesitantly called out. He knocked against the door, and called out again, "Elizabeth, are you alright?"

Elizabeth tossed and turned in the bed. Her hair was plastered to her forehead by a sheen of sweat that had broken out across her skin. Her hands were clenched tightly, her fingers digging into blankets as she shifted restlessly. Her legs kicked out, whether it was an unconscious effort to run or an attempt to kick something away. The pulse at the base of her throat jumped wildly, and then her eyes snapped open, a harsh gasp ripping through her throat as she bolted clear off the bed.

She landed on the floor with a loud bang, and Bilbo shoved the door open to see Elizabeth wildly looking around the room while groping like a beggar for her weapon. "Elizabeth?" Bilbo asked, hesitantly.

Her head jerked in his direction, her eyes wide and wild and her brows furrowed when they focused upon him. Slowly, one by one, her muscles relaxed as the nightmare faded, and reality settled in. Her shoulders slumped in exhausted, and she groaned resting her head on the edge of the bed. "Bilbo?" She asked, weakly.

"Yes?" The hobbit replied, a bit unsure.

Everything came flooding back with a painful awareness. The calm air that Bag End always seemed to possess settle across her sweat skin, and seep in before she ran a trembling hand down her face. "I'm…I'm fine," she replied, her voice sounding more shaky than she wanted it to. Clearing her throat, she pressed on, "I'm fine. It was just a nightmare."

"Again?" The worry was palpable in his voice.

She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a pitying laugh. She feared she hadn't been a very good house guest, popping up out of nowhere and her nightmares that probably scared Bilbo more than they scared her. Though…they scared her quite a bit if she was being honest. Elizabeth took in a deep breath. "Nice nighties," she commented, her eyes flickering with amusement.

Bilbo looked down at his nightclothes, and flushed wishing he had his robe. Crossing his arms over his chest, he attempted to look dignified. "I was asleep before you woke me up with all your…yelling," Bilbo sniffed, haughtily. He raked a concerned eye over her not for a second believing that she was fine in the slightest. "Are you certain you are alright?" He asked, frowning.

"I'll be…alright, Bilbo," she told him, rising to her feet using the bed to help steady herself. "I just need a moment to myself, please?" She looked at him, taking deep and steady breaths in order to calm herself.

Bilbo looked like he wanted to protest, but he did not know what else he could do help. He huffed, running a hand through his curls. "I…I will go make some breakfast," Bilbo said, his hands falling to his sides. "But if you aren't out there in just a few I will…" He hesitated for a second. "I will do something."

Elizabeth bit her lip not to chuckle. "Deal," she promised, giving him her best smile. The hobbit stared at her for a long moment, then he turned and walked out of the room.

She stood there for a moment, and closed her eyes to organize her thoughts and push away the nightmare to the back of her mind. Her head throbbed lightly, and the jolt of adrenaline that she had felt coursing through her veins was wearing off leaving her more exhausted than before she had fallen asleep. With a pitiful groan, she stood up and opened her eyes. The familiar walls of the smail and the homely feeling curb away the rest of her anxiety. She walked into the bathroom, when she finally managed to stop shaking and walked over to the sink. Twisting the handle, the water flowed down and she cupped it in her hands before splashing it across her face.

The cold splash was a welcomed shock batting away the last bits of fatigue, and she went about getting herself dressed. She didn't bother putting on her light weight armor doubting she would encounter anything too deadly in the nearby forest. She was hoping for some rabbits. Bilbo always did make the best rabbit stew. She exited the room after changing, and the scent of bacon, eggs and jam wafted through the air and her stomach growled loudly. She reached the kitchen, and saw Bilbo had made her a plate of food. Settling down adjacent from him, she greeted him, "Good morning."

Bilbo grimaced. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Bad morning?" She asked, with a wry smile.

"No, it's…a good morning," Bilbo sighed. He sipped on his tea gingerly while nibble on a scone smothered in raspberry jam. Elizabeth thanked him for the food, and gingerly began to eat. "Do you…do you want to talk about it?" The hobbit asked.

"Not really," Elizabeth murmured, her heart stuttering in her chest at the thought. "Maybe…once it isn't so fresh inside my head," she added, her eyes downcast.

"I am always here," Bilbo offered, simply.

A smile appeared on her face at that. Hobbits never ceased to amaze her…except the Sackville Baggins. She pities Bilbo for unfortunately being related to them. With a loud yawn, she stretched out and took her plate to the sink. She washed and dried it, before turning to Bilbo who is busy with reading a book. "I'm going hunting," she announced, pulling her hair tie out of her pocket and pulling her auburn hair back into a messy ponytail.

"Just make sure you shoot at an actual animal this time, and not Lobelia," Bilbo retorted, his lips twitching ever so slightly. "I'd rather not hear from the Thain again…even if she did deserve it," he added underneath his breath.

"I'll try not to, Bilbo," She chuckled, her voice carrying a low timber and a strange drawl that was quite endearing. "But who knows…maybe a rabbit will scurry in front of Lobelia on the road and my arrow just might slip?"

"No one would believe that," Bilbo pointed out.

Elizabeth grinned broadly. "You sure you don't want to come with me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. She had retrieved her green cloak from the back of the chair, and fastened it on. "We can make an adventure of it?"

"Adventure? Me?" He froze like a deer in headlights, his eyes going impossibly wide and look a bit hysterical. "Going on an adventure? No," he shook his head rapidly, side to side. "Just no."

Elizabeth paused, her right hand twitching and part of her wondered if she should tell Bilbo about Gandalf. Being a victim of the meddlesome wizard's, she knew how exactly how he operated. "Bilbo…do you remember what I said about having a reason for coming to the Shire? Besides, coming to see you," Elizabeth stated, her brows pinched. She had tried several times to mention Gandalf to Bilbo and the wizard's plan to show up, but always ended up tongue tied. Perhaps the lack of explanation was what held her back, or perhaps Gandalf put a spell on her. Either way, she couldn't help feel a little guilty about it for Biblo had been so good to her.

Bilbo blinked up at her in a way that reminded her of a startled rabbit. "Yes…you mentioned it a couple of times. Why?" He asked, grasping a scone so he could smother some raspberry jam on it.

Staring at the hobbit for a long moment, Elizabeth decided she would tell him when she got back from her hunt. Suddenly, her lips quirked up into a smile just imaging Bilbo being dragged onto an adventure by Gandalf.

"What's with that smile?" Bilbo eyed her, warily.

Elizabeth just chuckled lightly, and she just shook her head slightly. "I'll tell you when I get back," she said with a wide grin, and pulled the green hood of her cloak over her head. The deep rich green was a strong contrast to her porcelain skin.

* * *

A lone rabbit had stepped in her path, its nose raised in the air as it stood back on its haunches. Elizabeth drew back an arrow, murmuring a soft apology before releasing it. The rabbit flew backwards on to the ground dead, and Elizabeth picked it up tying it off of her belt with a tiny bit of guilt. Hunting was a cruel necessity to a wanderer, it didn't mean she entirely liked it. She caught one more rabbit, and had come across deer tracks, so she was setting up a trap for the deer. The day had quickly faded away, and the orange and pink hues coming down from the treetops made Elizabeth realize that she had been dallying in the forest too long. She inanely recalled her mother saying something about idle hands once when she was a child, with a slight smile.

_Bilbo is probably worried, _she thought with a deep sigh. She finished planting her trap for the deer. A deer would make a good trade at the Shire market. She could get a fair amount of supplies for Bag End to repay Bilbo for his kindness in letting her stay there. Keeping her breaths slow and even, she lifted her feet with a practice precision that she had come to learn over the several years. Her eyes raking over the forest, picking out the noise of the wind from the forest life. She had been trying to lure the deer out, using fur from a wolf she had killed last fall to make the deer go where she wanted it to go.

It should be heading for the clearing where she had left corn kernels to further entice the deer. It was a shoddy trap, if she had more time she would have planned it better, but hopefully it would work all the same. She fiddled with one of the arrows in her quiver while heading towards the clearing. That's when she heard it. A _shuffling_ sound. Too big to be a rabbit, and definitely not the graceful gait of a deer. A deep frown settled over her features, and she shoved through some bushes and into the clearing where she had hoped to meet the deer when she met something else entirely. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the man turn towards her and her heart jumped into her throat in shock.

She whirled to face the man, and gasped when she realized that it was not a man at all. But a dwarf! Elizabeth had raised her bow on an instinct that could only be borne from battle, an arrow notched ready to fire and her face carefully blank as the equally startled dwarf had pulled out his ax ready to swing. Her unnatural eyes clashed with the deep, severe hazel gaze of the dwarf's as if they were daring each other to make the first move. For a long time, the only noise in the forest were her sharp uneven breaths. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her lips tipped downward in a frown.

The dwarf's knuckles were white as he clutched his ax tightly. His lips pressed into a thin line, and Elizabeth realized that she would have to be the one to make the first move. "Master dwarf," she said, keeping her voice neutral as she studied him carefully. He was an intimidating looking dwarf with his bald head covered in tattoo, mighty beard and his gruff stance. Her bow was drawn tight, her arrow quaking ever so slightly as indecision filled her. Licking her dry lips, she debated whether she should she put her weapon down, or keep steady just in case? The fierce looking dwarf narrowed his eyes, his hands flexing around his mean looking axe obviously going over his choices.

He didn't make any motion to charge her, meaning he knew he would get shot down before he had the time to swing. She admired that he didn't stand down right away. A fighting spirit much like her own. "You going to put that arrow away, lassie?" The dwarf growled, through clenched teeth.

The right side of her mouth quirked up in amusement, and she almost put the arrow back in her quiver when she heard a branch crack from somewhere up above. Her eyes flickered to the hill behind him. In one movement, so subtle that one who wasn't paying attention would have missed it, she redirected her bow and let go. She watched the dwarf jerked back, bringing his weapon to defend himself when a loud thud behind him made him whirl around. There lying on the forest floor was a deer, the arrow sticking through right through its heart. "I apologize, Master dwarf," her voice low and calm as her eyes met the dwarf's, "if I startled you. It was not my intention."

The suspicious look didn't lessen in the slightest. Elizabeth carefully hooked her bow on her shoulder, and went to inspect her catch. "Hmm," she knelt down, her fingers gently brushing the gentle animal's head. "Thank your for giving your life," she murmured softly to the animal while taking the arrow out of its head, "so we may survive."

A shuffle beside her made her look and she saw the dwarf was still standing there. His gaze on her, ever wary, but there was confusion there to. Elizabeth rose, brushing the leaves that clung to her cloak off and inquired, politely, "Where does the road take you, Master dwarf?"

"My business is my own," the dwarf stated, gruffly.

"Forgive me, it was not my intention to pry," she said, with great care because she did not know this dwarf, nor have any inclination to trust him. "It is not often that we have a dwarf wander into the Shire, and I thought that perhaps you have lost your way and was in need of some assistance."

The tattooed dwarf considered her words for a long moment, his hands still clenched around his ax. She had no illusions that if he decided to strike that she would make it out okay. His icy blue eyes were filled with mistrust, but a reluctant grunt from his lips. "I look for Bag End," he finally divulged, with grudgingly.

Elizabeth's polite disposition instantly cooled, as her blood felt like ice coursing through her veins. She drew herself up to her full height and eyed the dwarf with suspicion. She spoke, her voice as hard as diamonds, "May I ask what you want with Bag End?" She eyed him up and down, briefly wondering if he was part of the 'others' that Gandalf mentioned to Bilbo.

"As I said before my business is my own," the dwarf snapped. Dwarves were not the trusting sort it appeared. He muttered something in a guttural language, and Elizabeth knew it wasn't something nice.

"Not when it has something to do with my friend's home," Elizabeth shot back, her voice just as fierce. Her fingers itched to draw another arrow, but he could easily hack her head off before she got the time to shoot. _Must tread carefully, _she thought to herself and kept her body poised to run if necessary.

"Your friend's…" Understanding filled the dwarf's eyes, and he shifted to face her once more, looking her up and down. The weight of his gaze was judging and Elizabeth made sure she didn't shy away. After a long moment of silence, he seemed to come to some sort of decision before bowing slightly to her. "Dwalin, at your service," he introduced himself, the stiffen in his bow told her how reluctant he was in that greeting.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, her lips pursed. "Elizabeth Morgan, at yours and your family," she inclined her head, and allowed herself to relax ever so slightly. "Well, if it is Bag End that you seek, Master Dwarf, then I shall lead you there." Her head cocked to the side. "That is…if you agreeable to that suggestion?"

Dwalin gave a sharp nod. "Aye, lass," the dwarf said. "It is agreeable."

* * *

Bilbo was quite worried when the sun dipped down and Elizabeth had yet to arrive. He even went and reread her letter-twice-to check and make sure that tonight was indeed the night that she had planned on arriving. He supposed that she could have found something that piqued her curiosity, it wouldn't be the first time and yet there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his gut like something strange would soon be happening. He finished cooking dinner, and placed Elizabeth a plate off the side covering it with a towel to keep it warm. He took his own plate, and heads towards the table. He tucked his napkin into his collar and picked up his utensils when a knock came from the door.

He paused, his brows furrowing. His first thought went to Elizabeth, but she wouldn't knock. Setting his utensils carefully down, he pulled the napkin from his neck and set it down on the table before rising from his seat. He padded across the wooden floor, trying to think of who would disturb him at this hour. Probably Lobelia, she had the uncanny knack for coming around at the most inopportune times. He sighed, and opened the door ready to politely send her on her way when he froze on the spot.

_That is not Lobelia._

* * *

**Next Chapter: **More dwarves, and a wizard has some explaining to do...:D

**_RRs are appreciated! :D_**


	5. The Hobbit and A Lot of Dwarves

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.**

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

I want to thank BloodBlackAlchemist, Gingah18, LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, chrisd1016929, dianaemrys15, nbowles, Goalphabeticalorder, MYSTERYGEEK, Neewa, ThaliaHuntressGrace, Tiryn, aeriestar, , MissVanora, Prost, TerribleSuccubus, izatelles, jorja85, SprinklingStardust0596, Voletta97, gallant2195, Zinverai, WindyCorners, kassiopeia089, InezSophia and THE WALKING sexy AMC for the follows! Thank you!

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, MissVanora and Goalphabeticalorder, jorja85, Voletta97, gallant2195, WindyCorners, camsam17 and DrAnime203 for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, TheGirl!

**If I missed anyone just shout out at me in a review, or PM. :D**

**Guest Reviews:**

The Girl: Thanks, and here be the dwarves! :D

"Regular Talking"

'_Thought will be set up like this.'_

"_Elvish words and translation will be in italic." I've tried to use as much elvish from reliable sights as I could to get an authentic feel. Some things I don't have elvish for, but they will still be in italics so consider it elvish."_

**I don't know when the next chapter will be up, I have to edit it and rewrite it on top of trying to get my NCIS fic done, and starting my other NCIS fic afterwards...yeah, so I will try to get to it when I have the time. But I had this chapter done, and I was like...why not put it up? Hope you enjoy?**

Anyways I want to thank you all for the support. I'm really happy with the turn out for this story! :D

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"**The Hobbit and A Lot of Dwarves"**

Bilbo couldn't only stare, mouth agape. He felt absolutely befuddled. He couldn't remember another time in his life that he felt as befuddled as this, and he felt all thought fly out of his mind leaving him stammering like a halfwit. The person upon his doorstep…well, it was certainly not Lobelia, and first time in his life (and last), he wished it had been his cousin upon his doorstep for standing on the other side of the threshold was dwarf, who easily towered over him. He was intimidating and fierce with his tattooed scalp, draped in furs and weapons. "Ah…" was the only thing Biblo was capable of saying articulately. The rest just came out as squeaks or strained mumbles.

"Dwalin, at your service," the dwarf introduced himself, giving a surprisingly graceful bow for someone who had a deer slung over his shoulder.

Shell-shocked, Bilbo let out a noise like a whimper. He fumbled with his robe, tying it shut and stood taller. "Bilbo…Bilbo Baggins, at yours," he greeted with a slight bow.

"Do you know where I can put the deer down, lad?" Dwalin asked, abruptly.

"The deer…what deer?" Bilbo said, his voice trembling with confusion and her was desperately trying to grasp the situation when a familiar voice interrupted him. Was there a dwarf on his doorstep, and why did he have a deer slung over his shoulder?

"You can set it down here, Master Dwalin," Elizabeth appeared by the dwarves side and pointed to the yard. "I will take it around back to skin it later. Dinner is on the table, I'm sure," Elizabeth added, with a tiny wince when Bilbo's head snapped towards her. Bilbo's ear tips went red, and she sent him an apologetic look when he looked at her accusingly. "Thank you for your help. I appreciate it."

Dwalin grunted in acknowledge before slinging the deer off his shoulder in one swift moment before barging in past Bilbo without a word. The hobbit watched the dwarf with wide eyes, while Elizabeth shifted nervously on her feet waiting for the inevitable explosion to happen. Finally, the hobbit's head slowly turned in her direction, and she gave him a shrug with a tentative smile.

"Elizabeth!" Bilbo sputtered, and looked near pulling his hair out of his hair before he finally gathered his wits. "What are you doing bringing back…a dwarf?!" Bilbo struggled to keep his voice barely more than a whispered. Both he and Elizabeth's eyes flickered towards their guest who settled himself down in front of Bilbo's dinner in fear that he had just heard those words. Thankfully, Dwalin seemed more interested in the fish than them at the moment.

"Why is that so surprising? I mean, honestly you've caught me doing stranger," Elizabeth tried to appear nonchalant, but Bilbo sent her a surprisingly vicious look that had her holding up her hands in surrender. "In my defense, he was already headed here. Something about being invited by a wizard for an…adventure?" She cocked her head to the side.

The anger drained out of the hobbit's face, and Bilbo pressed his hands to his face as the cold realization settled upon him. "Gandalf," Bilbo groaned, running his hands down his face. "That rotten wizard…why are the two of you up to?" The hobbit sent her a glare.

"Hey! I'm actually innocent here!" Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips. "For the most part…" A guilty flush crawled across her face. "Okay…maybe I knew a little, but not a lot. Gandalf doesn't exactly share his mad schemes with me before he drags me head first into them," she said, with a helpless little shrug of her shoulders. Her lips pursed, and she glanced over at the dwarf eating at the fish as if it were the most decent thing he had eaten in a while. Giving a soft sigh, she looked back down at Bilbo and said, "I don't what Gandalf is doing, Bilbo, and I can't stop the wizard when he puts his mind to something. All I can do is…uh, be here for emotional support?"

"Now why doesn't that sound reassuring?" Bilbo said, with a heavy sigh. "I suppose I have little choice now that he is here, after all. I should be a gracious host to him. After all, father would roll in his grave if I were anything less."

Elizabeth's smile froze on her face, before it twisted into a grimace. Gently she reached out and patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Oh, you poor, poor hobbit. Not him," she said, softly.

"Not him?" Bilbo looked puzzled.

"Them," she corrected, quietly.

"Them?" Bilbo repeated, and he cocked his head staring at her as if he hadn't heard quite right. His hands on his hips and he inquired as if he didn't understand the word at all, "Them? As in more…dwarves…coming here…?"

Elizabeth nodded, sympathetically.

"No! No!" Bilbo brushed past her, looking around wildly searching for something that would somehow help him out this. Unfortunately, he could find nothing. "We'll…we'll just pretend we aren't here. Just like we do when Lobelia shows up. Oh, why do I keep inviting you here? All you do is bring trouble!"

"Because I'm adorable?" Elizabeth bit back a laugh.

"This is not a joking matter, Elizabeth! This is serious! Dwarves in my home! What will the neighbors think? What will they say?" Bilbo spoke quickly, his voice breathless as he fiddled with buttons of his waistcoat. "There must be a mistake! Surely this is a mistake!"

"Bilbo," Elizabeth reached out trying to console the hobbit, but he whirled around shooting off towards the diner room. Elizabeth followed and watched him walk right up to Dwalin and clear his throat. The dwarf paused, then raised his gaze.

Bilbo opened and shut his mouth a few times, before he finally regained his voice. "How…how do you know my house is the right…" Bilbo cleared his throat, shooting Elizabeth an annoyed look. "Is the right house that you…arre looking for?" The hobbit fidgeted underneath Dwalin's intimidating stare.

There was a beat. "The mark on the door," Dwalin stated simply.

"There's no mark on the door!" Bilbo looked aghast.

Elizabeth nose wrinkled like a kitten's when it was disgruntled, and there was an apologetic tilt to her mouth. Her eyes flickered from the floor to the door then back at Bilbo, who looked at her with wide eyes. "There's a mark on the door," Elizabeth said, quietly.

"But I just painted the door!" Bilbo said, loudly. "I spent hours-nay, slaved away for days painting that door! Who would put a mark on it?" The hobbit demanded, hands on his hips.

"Probably…uh, Gandalf," she said, biting back a laugh because it wasn't appropriated to laugh at her friend's misery especially considering she felt partially responsible for it. Elizabeth then gave a Dwalin a tiny smile while placing her hands on Bilbo's shoulders, and asked, "Could you just…uh, give us a moment, Master Dwalin?"

He grunted, and she took that as a 'yes' and steered Bilbo towards the hallway. When they reached there, Elizabeth leaned down and looked him straight in the eye. "Bilbo," she spoke softly, "deep breaths. In and out."

The hobbit on the verge of a break down just glared at her.

"Look I know that this is unexpected, and not at all how you envisioned tonight going, but sometimes life throws you unexpected things. And sometimes those things are better than the expected," Elizabeth confided in him, quietly. "What kind of life do you really want Bilbo? One where you denied ever bit of wonder and curiosity? Or one where you surprised even yourself by what you did and what you learned?"

"It's only dinner, Elizabeth," Bilbo pointed out, dryly though her words did cause an ache of longing in his chest. "Not an adventure. I'm not going on any adventures," he felt it necessary to add. "No matter what that wizard says, no matter what you say I will not be going."

"You never know," Elizabeth stated, with a half smile. "Adventures are everywhere, even when you aren't looking for them."

"If you say so," Bilbo said, but he doubted any such adventures came around the Shire. And if they did, he would not be interested. Not one tiny bit. His hazel green eyes looked up at Elizabeth, searchingly. "Are you sure that it's safe? Bringing him here?" Bilbo questioned, warily.

Elizabeth paused, because truthfully she was uncertain even if Gandalf was involved. She did not trust easily, despite the bright smiles and cheery persona she could put on at a seconds notice. She personally blames that on her first, and most unfortunate encounter in Middle Earth and the years of isolation following that event for her hardened heart. "I believe so," Elizabeth commented, carefully. Her blue eyes flickering to the dwarf, and she studied him for a long moment. He could have easily attacked her several times on their way to Bag End, but he didn't and that put some points in his favor. Elizabeth continued, softly, "Dwarves are usually quite honorable, and he hasn't caused great harm yet-"

"Tell that to my dinner," Bilbo retorted.

"You can eat mine," Elizabeth sighed. She reached up and pinched her brow. "Look, let's just remember our manners-"

"What manners?" Bilbo snorted. "You haven't got any."

Elizabeth looked affronted. "I'll have you know that I can be quite charming when the occasion calls for it," she said, with a mock scowl. Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek, fighting off a grin. Elizabeth just huffed crossing her arms over her chest and glowered down at him.

Bilbo smiled cheekily in return.

* * *

About a half hour passed by the time that there was another knock at the door. By that time, Elizabeth and Bilbo had pushed tables together and brought out chairs. Elizabeth had made sure Bilbo ate before any of the other guests arrive because she had a feeling things would soon be too hectic for either of them to get the chance. Dwalin had helped, surprisingly though he only grunted in acknowledgement when Elizabeth thanked him. He wasn't much for words, she supposed. They had a feast out on the table, and Elizabeth had just started cutting up the deer and putting the meat out to cook. Some for tonight, the dwarves would no doubt be starving and drying some out over the flame to take on her travels. Jerky had a shelf life that most other foods didn't. She practically lived off the stuff on the road.

A great knock at the door made her jump, and her hand landed on her bow. She shook her head after a moment, and released the weapon noticing Dwalin looking at her out of the corner of her eye. "That'll be the door," Dwalin stated.

Bilbo just looked at him, and wondered did all dwarves state the obvious before he went to the door. He took in a deep breath, hoping that the Green Lady would give him strength then pulled it open. He found himself face with another dwarf, but this one wasn't as intimidating at Dwalin. He was an old, white-haired dwarf whose beard was styled to be split at the end. He had a genially expression that put Bilbo at little bit at ease. The dwarf bowed, "Balin, at your service."

"At you and yours," Bilbo replied in kind.

"Am I late?" Balin inquired.

"Your only the second dwarf here," Bilbo said, because he wasn't sure what time this…meeting of Gandalf's would transpire, but when the wizard showed up, the hobbit would be having some words him. Serious and unpleasant words. Bilbo ushered Balin, trying to remember all his good hobbit manners and stick to them.

"Ah, good," Balin smiled broadly seeing the other dwarf. His eyes filling up with great joy. "Evening, brother."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, and looked at Elizabeth who was cleaning her hands off blood with a rag finally finishing up with the deer and having deposed of its body in the back yard. He mouthed, 'Brothers?' and gestured between the two dwarves. Elizabeth cocked her head, looking between the two and she just shrugged. Dwalin clasped his brother's arms and said, "Oh, by my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met."

Balin laughed. "Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for the both of us," he laughed, and then the two smashed their heads together. Bilbo blinked taking a step back and Elizabeth even looked a bit taken aback. Balin then saw Elizabeth, and said, "Oh, forgive me my lack of manners, lass. Dinnae see you there. Balin, at your service," he gave her a bow with a smile.

"Elizabeth, at you and yours," she replied in kind. "Take a seat where ever you like, and help yourself," Elizabeth smiled, and when she passed by Bilbo she leaned down and hissed in his ear. "See I told you I had manners."

Bilbo bit his lip harshly in an effort not to laugh out loud. "For how long?" He shot back. Elizabeth covertly stuck her tongue out of at the hobbit.

"My what a feast! I haven't seen a feast so magnificent since I left the Blue Mountains," Balin commented, brightly.

"Aye," Dwalin agreed, gruffly. "Ale, brother?"

"As if I could say no," Balin chuckled, as Dwalin filled his brother up a cup. Bilbo let out a sigh of relief that this seemed to be going better than expected, only to cringe slightly when there is another knock at the door. Elizabeth had sympathy on him and walked around the two dwarves, and said, "I'll get the door, Bilbo. Perhaps you should go check on the food?"

"Yes…yes, I'll go to that," Bilbo sounded a tad faint.

Elizabeth pulled the door open, and found herself facing two young and handsome dwarves. The one on the left had a with the blond mane reminded her of a lion, his blue eyes filled with intelligence and mischief. On the left, was a brunette who had long hair that stopped just past his shoulder and yet possessed no beard which threw her off for a moment, but the young dwarf's beard was no business of hers so she let it go. He had an impish glint in his eyes, even though they strived to remain serious. Though the two appeared to look as different as the day is to night on first glance, with only the wild glint in their gazes, she did notice several similarity on further inspection. Their eyes were same shape, their lips similar and they both carried the same strong jaw. They were obliviously related. Brothers if she were to guessed.

There was something familiar about the two of them. A primal feeling of recognition that she didn't understand because she was sure she had never met these dwarves before her life. Elizabeth had a curious tilt to her head, watching them expectantly.

"Fili," the blond started, solemnly.

"Kili," the brunette continued, seriously. Together they bowed, their movements completely in sync and finished with, "At your service."

Her eyebrow ticked upward in surprise, reminded faintly of a certain pair of twins in Rivendell. She held her tongue, having a feeling the comparison would not go over well with all the bad blood between dwarves and elves.

"You must be, Missus Boggins," Kili smiled.

As soon as she laid eyes on them she knew they were going to be trouble. It was written in their smiles and eyes as plain as day. Elizabeth kept her expression blank when she regarded them and their weapons. She noted with surprised that the brunette carried a bow which was traditionally an elf weapon. She also noticed blond was the older of the two brothers, and protective because he stood slightly in front of his brother. Barely noticeable really, but Elizabeth saw it.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. She would get a kick out of telling Bilbo this later. "I'm afraid I have not the pleasure of that title."

"Do we…have the wrong house?" Fili asked, after sharing a look with his brother.

"No, you have the right house," she stepped aside to let them in. "Mister _Baggins,_" she stressed Bilbo's name, "is inside with the others."

Fili then smiled charmingly that would have many woman swooning. "Then if you aren't not Missus Baggins, please my lady, allow me the simple pleasure of your name."

_Oh, great. A couple of flirts_.Elizabeth's lips twitched upward against her will. "Well, I suppose it would be rather rude to deprive you of your simple pleasures," she said, fighting to keep her face as straight as possible.

"Oh, most rude indeed," Kili grinned, broadly.

"Elizabeth Morgan," she bowed, at the waist. "At your service. Please," she straightened, "come in. But I must ask that if your shoes are muddy," which they were, she had noticed that too, "that you leave them at the door. You can set your weapons there," she gestured to the spot where Dwalin had set his axes. Balin's weapon now resided there, too. The young men did as they were bid with little complaint and Elizabeth led them to the dining room. Balin was seated by his brother, the two heavily in a conversation which they changed to a different language as she walked in. She merely quirked up an eyebrow, and nothing else. They didn't know them, they didn't trust them which was completely fair because Elizabeth didn't trust these dwarves either.

"Take a seat where you like, and help yourself. I must go help, Bilbo," she said, spying the hobbit peeking around the corner from his pantry. She walked into the pantry and looked at Bilbo who sat upon the counter, his feet hanging a few inches above the ground. He nibbled worriedly on a biscuit he had plucked for himself and his eyes were dark with thought.

"Bilbo," she asked, "are you okay?"

"Fine," he bit off a piece of biscuit. "Peachy. Just needed a moment to myself. A moment to…to catch my breath," he stuttered, nervously eating the crust of the biscuit before eating the center.

"Well, I'm here if you need me for anything, you know that right?" she said, quietly and squeezed his hand affectionately. The dwarves bold personalities were overwhelming even she could feel that. Bilbo smiled gratefully at her. Elizabeth had his back whenever he needed it the most, and he never thank her enough for that.

"Thank you," he smiled before hopping of the counter and landing on his feet. He finally felt calm, and the two headed back to the dining room when a loud knock came from the door. Bilbo closed his eyes, heaving a sigh and Elizabeth looked amused. "And I'm very impressed by the way. You haven't said a single curse, even when Dwalin set the table down on your toes," he grinned, cheekily.

"Don't think they haven't crossed my mind." Elizabeth said seriously, wiggling her sore toes with a mournful look. That was so going to hurt tomorrow. "Do you want me to get that?" Elizabeth asked, her lips twitching.

"No, I'll get it," Bilbo declined her offer.

Elizabeth watched him walk the corner and out of sight. She turned, and then had to come to a complete halt when faced with the two young dwarf brothers. Arching a brow and placing one hand on her hip she, inquired, "Can I help you?"

The two shared a glance before both grinned at her. "We couldn't help but notice," Kili began, his lips quirked in a half smile.

"That you, fair lady, are not a hobbit," Fili finished, with an award winning smile.

The whole finishing each other sentences gave her pause, but not as much as what they said. Of all the things that they could have said, that certainly wasn't what Elizabeth had been expecting. "Oh, dear," she said, a teasing smirk gracing her features, "whatever gave me away? My lack of pointy ears, the way that my hair does not curl or perhaps it is because my severe lack of foot hair?" She arched an eyebrow at the pair.

"All of the above," Fili breezily retorted, without a lick of shame in his voice. "We were just wondering what a lady like you was doing in a place like this."

"And why shouldn't I be here?" Elizabeth asked, tilting her head to the side reminiscent of cat who was debating whether to lash out with its claws.

"What we mean," Kili stepped in, "is that the Hobbits…didn't seemed to thrilled to have us dwarves stomping on through."

"I suppose that didn't have to do with anything with the flowers that were stuck to the bottom of your boots?" Elizabeth questioned, with a wide eyed innocent look upon her face. A smirk pulled at her lips when both of them looked gave a pair of guilty grins like two kids who just caught with their hands in the cookie jar. The two jolted when a great pair of hands landed on their shoulders, Elizabeth just quirked a half smile at Dwalin who had a suspicious gleam in his eyes. The brothers' shared a panic look, that caused Elizabeth to bite her lip in order not to laugh.

Dwalin said, sternly, "Less flirting, more helping!"

Elizabeth watched, sniggering behind her hand as Dwalin dragged them away by their ears. She eased her way through the throng of dwarves and headed towards the door. The closer she got to the door, the clearer she head a familiar voice. _Gandalf. About damn time, _she thought, her eyes narrowing into slits. She walked around the corner, ready to lay into the wizard but the great heap of dwarves on the floor made her freeze.

She blinked and blinked before shaking her head. Raising her gaze, she looked at the wizard. Gandalf gave Bilbo that grandfatherly smile of his and open his mouth, to weasel his way out of tongue lashing most likely. However, he didn't get the chance. "Oh, no, no, no," Elizabeth voice's eclipsed all others and she walked around the corner with a smug smile upon her lips. "Not so fast," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Gandalf looked only faintly surprised to see her there. She wondered if he had been counting on that. "You are late, Mr. Grey."

Bag End went silent, and all of its occupants eyes were on the glaring woman and the grey wizard. Gandalf straightened his spine, eyeing her with a frown. "A wizard is never late, Elizabeth Morgan," he told her, haughtily. "He arrives precisely when he means to."

"Hmph, if you say so."

"I do," Gandalf said, sternly. "I am pleased to see that you made it. Means one less person to round up," the wizard said, and he carefully stepped around the group of dwarves who were untangling themselves and picking themselves off the floor.

Elizabeth looked up at him, dryly. "Are you finally going to tell me what exactly you are up to, Gandalf?" She asked, hands on her hips and a cool eyebrow raised.

The wizard chuckled lightly. "All will be explained in due time. You must trust me on this, _Adlanniel_," he told her, using her old nickname to soften her. It worked despite how much Elizabeth tried to not to let it, and she gave a resigned sigh.

"Fine," Elizabeth crossed her arms over her. "But it better be a good one," she said, pulling back to stand along side of Bilbo. She laid her hand on the hobbit's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze as he stared at the sheer amount of dwarves in house. "I believe introductions are in order," Elizabeth replied, a light smile on her face as her eyes ran across all the dwarves.

"Oh! Of course," Gandalf gathered himself, and he began to list all of the dwarves who stood waiting. "Nori, Ori, Dori…Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Oin and Gloin," the wizard said, while counting them off on his hand. The dwarves all muttered 'at your service' with a few bows, and nods at Elizabeth and Bilbo. "And these my dear dwarves, is Bilbo Baggins and Elizabeth Morgan."

"At…at your service," Bilbo offered, timidly.

Elizabeth just quietly inclined her head politely and wondered with no small amount of dread-and excitement-what she had just signed up for.

* * *

The dwarves were loud.

So loud, and boisterous that Elizabeth was surprise none of Biblo's neighbors had gotten curious and came around for a peek. She sat back in the corner, out of the way in an attempt to not get trampled and watched the group warily. She became a wallflower, attempting to fade into the background. It gave her a chance to examine the current company without being in the fray. Elizabeth had her arms crossed over her chest, and her chin held up slightly. They dwarves immediately attacked the food on the table, and some even went to get _more _out of the pantry. Bilbo was running around looking utterly frazzled. "Those are my plates! Excuse me! Put that back. Put that back!" The hobbit stumbled past her, and she steadied him with a hand.

"Calm yourself, Bilbo," Elizabeth's voice was soft and soothing. She knew that he was trouble with the pantry being so empty. It had been an unfortunate quirk he had picked after the Fell Winter, the need for the pantry to be stock so he would never worry about being starved. The hobbit gave her a deadpanned look, as he really wanted to say something mean, but bit his tongue.

Bombur walked by with three entire wheels of cheese in his arms, and Elizabeth is momentarily taken back by the sight as was Bilbo. The hobbit looked at the red headed dwarf, in shock. "Excuse me. A tad excessive, isn't it? Have you got a cheese knife?" The hobbit asked, bemused.

"Cheese knife?" Bofur gave a smile, his dark eyes twinkling madly as he laughed. "He eats it by the block!"

Bilbo's mouth dropped open slightly, and he placed his head into his hands. Elizabeth shoved on his shoulder, urging him towards the hallway. "Go and take a breath," she said, softly. Bilbo sent her a grateful look before heeding her advice. Elizabeth leaned back into the corner once more becoming invisible to the festivities that were going on in front of her. The dwarves laughed, and poured glass after glass of ale while Fili and Kili attempt to out drink the other.

She wondered if all dwarves were like this. She had only met one dwarf before and well, it hadn't be ideal circumstances. The only other glimpses she had gotten from dwarves were from her nightmares. A loud cheer from the dwarves after Kili beat Fili in downing a pint of ale first broke her out of her thoughts. She swallowed thickly, and turned away from the dwarves because all she could see was the sight of hundred of dwarves begin burned alive. Their screams still echoing inside of her head. _Oh, God…I just want answers. What is Gandalf playing at? _She thought, her fingernails biting into her palms harshly. Swallowing back the bile, she finally managed to looked back at the dwarves. They were certainly a cheery bunch, not something she had expected at all. The hair on the back of her neck prickled warningly as Gandalf drew to her side, his grey brows drawn together as he studied her.

"_Manen le, mellyn nin?" _Gandalf asked, watching her look over the group warily. He knew her great aversion to large crowds, and in the small smail she must be feeling very anxious. Her right hand twitched as if to clasp her bow, and the wizard was happy that he had to the forethought to hide it even though he was sure Elizabeth would pay him back in kind once she found out.

"_Im maer," _she replied, shortly. Her voice was quiet enough to go unheard underneath all the noise, except by the wizard. "What is your intentions here, Gandalf?" She questioned, her voice darkening. "What do you want with Bilbo? Why did you bring these dwarves here?"

Gandalf hummed lightly. He knew if the hobbit agreed to the journey, Elizabeth would follow him. He felt the weight upon his shoulder ease slightly at this. "I mean no harm, if that is your concern," the wizard spoke carefully.

"It is one of many," Elizabeth retorted, her strange eyes shooting him a hard look. The wizard chuckled lightly not in the least bit affected by it.

That's when Dori approached them with a tray of tea. Dori's hair was gray and his beard had several intricate braids, and he had a very nurturing nature, especially towards his youngest brother Ori, from what she had seen. "Excuse me, Mr. Gandalf, Miss Morgan, can I tempt you with a nice cup of chamomile tea?" The dwarf inquired, politely.

"Oh, no thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think," the wizard inclined his head politely and moved away from Elizabeth to avoid further questions.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to stop him, before sighing her shoulders slumping. Looking at Dori who looked at her expectantly, she gave him a smile. "A cup of tea sounds lovely, Master Dori," she said, softly. "Thank you."

"Here you go miss," he handed her a steaming cup of tea.

She thanked him again, and let him go on his way. Elizabeth took a tiny sip, the flowery taste of the chamomile settling her nervous just a bit. Her thumb traced the floral pattern on the cup while a chuckle escaped her when Gandalf hit his head on the chandelier while avoiding the scurrying dwarves. He shot her a glance, and she shot him an innocent look. He shook his head, and he turned around. He started to counting the dwarves on his fingers. "Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bombur, Dori, Nori…Ori…" He paused, a realization dawning in his eyes.

Bifur approached the wizard muttering to him in a language that Elizabeth could not translate. Gandalf nodded. "Yes, you're quite right, Bifur. We appear to be one dwarf short," Gandalf commented.

"He is late, is all. He traveled North to a meeting of our kin. He will come," Dwalin announced loudly.

_At least I have that roast still cooking then, otherwise we'd have little to offer this late dwarf, _Elizabeth thought, wryly. She moved into kitchen and fixed up a plate before setting it off to the side and covering it over to keep it warm. She moved back out and saw Dori hand Gandalf the smallest glass of red wine ever. The wizard looked at it sadly, and Elizabeth sniggered behind her hand. After a few minutes, all the dwarves settled in the dining room and around the grand feast, the part that Bilbo and Elizabeth had made, and the parts the Dwarves had decided to add to it. All in all it was a lot of food. There were eating noisily, and messy which she could see by the look on Bilbo's face he wasn't enjoying one bit.

"Bombur, catch!" Bofur tossed a piece of food to Bombur.

Bombur leaned to the ride and caught the door in his mouth, and everyone cheers. Elizabeth laughed when a food fight begun, and Bilbo just shakes his head with a mournful groan. Elizabeth wanted to take pity on him, but held back because she thought Bilbo needed this. Bilbo had milquetoast personality outwardly, but deep down inside Elizabeth knew there was stronger hobbit waiting to burst free. If only Bilbo could see that strength himself.

Bilbo sent a mournful glance at his pantry which was nearly cleaned out, and heaved a sigh wiping a tired hand down his face. He turned when he heard a startled noise burst out of Elizabeth's lips when Fili jumped on the table carrying several cups of ale, and knocking the food out of his way as he went. "Who wants an ale?" Fili asked, and several shouts went up all around him. He started passing them out.

He handed one to Dwalin who decided to pour it in Oin's hearing trumpet, and Oin sputtered in anger, his face turning red. Everyone else laughed, and Elizabeth hid a smile behind her hand. On the count of three, the dwarves tried to down their ale in gulp. The ale poured all over their faces and runs down their beards, and Elizabeth winced at the mess that there would be come the end of the night. Ori, the youngest of the group lets out the biggest burp. While the dwarves laugh loudly, Bilbo just shook his head in disgust.

"They have different customs than hobbits, Bilbo," Elizabeth said, quietly. "I don't think they are intentionally being rude."

Bilbo let out a huff, but the tension on his face eased ever so slightly. He shot her a look, and took in her pale face. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost," the hobbit commented.

"Something like that," Elizabeth admitted. She forced a smile on her face when Bilbo shot her a worriedly look. "It's…nothing. Nothing to worry about," she fumbled for the words, her right palm tingling painfully.

The hobbit looked like he wanted to argue that a lot, but pinched his brow. "How long have you known him?" Bilbo asked. "Gandalf, I mean."

"Since I was a child," Elizabeth replied.

"Has…that is to say, has he always been so…so sneaky?" Bilbo asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and looked over at her out of the corner of his eye. He saw her lips pull into a smile, as she snorted in laughter.

"Actually? Yeah, he's always been that way," Elizabeth chuckled, thinking of all the stunts Gandalf had pulled over the years. She had dubbed him (loudly and quite drunk) the most meddlesome person in all of Middle Earth. Gandalf hadn't been amused at the time. Elrond on the other hand had never forgotten.

"I'm not going to enjoy this, am I?" Bilbo asked, turning towards her.

"Yes and no," Elizabeth said, with a sympathetic smile. The hobbit groaned, pitifully. Elizabeth raised her gaze, and saw Gandalf arching a brow her way as if he had heard the entire conversation. He probably did, and Elizabeth just gave him a big shrug. Dinner came to an end, and the dwarves started wandering around Bag End. She supposed it was genuine curiosity on their part, but it was irritating on Bilbo's end.

"Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!" Bilbo snatched the doily from Nori.

"But it's full of holes!" Bofur looked at it, bemused.

Bilbo looked at him. "It's supposed to look like that," the hobbit sighed. "It's crochet."

"Oh," Bofur shrugged, "and a wonderful game it is too, if you go the balls for it." Elizabeth snorted loudly. "Ah, there you are lassie!" Bofur turned towards her. "Why you hiding in the corner for?"

"Less chance of getting stepped on," Elizabeth answered, with a light smile on her lips.

"But all the more chance to miss out on all the fun!" Kili cried appearing on her right. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are glazed over. Elizabeth delicately took the mug of ale from him despite the dwarf's protests.

"Me thinks you've had too much to drink," Elizabeth told him. "No more ale for you," she wagged a finger in his direction, giving him a no nonsense look.

"Boo!" Kili shouted at her for taking away his ale.

"Boo!" Fili, and Ori echoed.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and dodged Bofur and Nori who were wrestling over a chain of sausages. "Excuse me," she murmured to Dwalin, and Balin as she passed. She stepped into the hallway and saw Bilbo glaring furiously up at Gandalf.

"I don't want to get use to them!" The hobbit hissed, hands on his hips and his hazel eyes fierce. "The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pi-pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house," Bilbo finished, looking like he was ready to pull his hair out.

Gandalf didn't look offended in the slightest, in fact, he looked pleased by Bilbo standing up for himself. Elizabeth wondered if that was what the wizard had been waiting for this whole time.

"Uh, excuse me, Miss Morgan."

A slight tug at her shoulder, and she looked down slightly at Ori who stood beside. Ori appeared to be the younger end of the group, and he, too, bore several braids in his hair. She also noticed his eye traveling to the book shelf on more than one occasion. "Yes, Master Ori?" Elizabeth asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

Ori's uncertain quailed when she remembered his name. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" Ori asked, politely.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, when Fili popped out of nowhere. "Here you go, Ori, give it to me," Fili said, and took the plate.

"Where did you come from? Seriously where did you come from?" Elizabeth looked around to find some conceivable place the dwarf could have popped up from but found none. Fili just grinned then tossed the plate to Kili who threw it behind his back to Bifur. Biblo looked like someone had just killed his puppy. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes about to bulge out of his head. It only got worse when all the dwarves started to participate and tossing their plates and dishes through the air. Elizabeth stood there, in awe and shock at how effortlessly the dwarves worked together with a swiftness she hadn't known dwarves could possess.

"Oh!" Gandalf ducked to avoid a plate.

Elizabeth pressed her back against the wall to avoid a glass and knife. Bilbo was running around in an attempt to stop the chaos. "Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crockery, it's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo shouted, trying to jump up and catch the dishes, but failing.

The dwarves at the table begin rhythmically drumming on the table with utensils and their fists. The hobbit whirled around on them. "And can you not do that? You'll blunt them!" The hobbit complained. Elizabeth pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to hold back a deep, belly laugh.

"Ooh, d'hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives," Bofur laughed loudly, his strange hat tilting forward ever so slightly.

Kili got a mischievous smile on his face, and opened his mouth. Elizabeth had expected a joking comment, and was totally caught off surprise when he started to sing. His voice was rich, and full of laughter.

"_Blunt the knives, bend the forks,_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!"_

Elizabeth started laughing. She couldn't hold it any longer as all the dwarves picked up the rhythm and started singing along. Her heart lightened in a way that she couldn't remember it being lightened, and she felt Fili's hands grab hers. The next thing she knew she was pulled into a fast pace dance. She followed Fili's movements, watching to mirror his steps as she was pulled around and around. Fili took over, his voice deeper and more mature than his brother's.

"_Chip the glasses and crack the plates,_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

She let out a loud startled laugh as Fili twirled her around in his arms. During the dance, her gaze flickered towards the window and she could have sworn she saw two blue eyes staring in, but before she could get a better look, Bofur stepped in a stole her away from Fili. Bofur's dancing was more wild and free where Fili's had been more graceful and smooth like he had been taught whereas Bofur must have taught himself. Nonetheless, Elizabeth was still enjoying herself. "Come on, Bilbo!" She urged the hobbit to join in. She couldn't remember a time where she had enjoyed herself more.

Bilbo resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. _This is not proper. Not proper at all, _he thought stiffly and tried to catch some of his plates and silverware but the dwarves were initially throwing it out of his reach.

"_Cut the cloth and tread on the fat,_

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat,_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor."_

"Splash the wine on every door!" Elizabeth contributed, with a laugh and Bofur gave her a wink. The next thing she knew she was being swept up by Nori. It was easy to remember Nori because of the star like style to his hair, though it was not fairly easy to keep an eye on him. She easily lost him in the crowd of dwarves, more than once.

"_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole,_

_When you've finished, if any are whole,_

_Send them down the hall to roll!"_

Bilbo rises with anger, raced around the corner to see what damage they did to his dishes only to slump down in shock at the neatly and clean stack of dishes. Not a single one of the chipped.

"_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

The dwarves and Gandalf laugh. Elizabeth stumbled, holding onto Nori while laughing breathlessly. She gasped out between her laughs, "That was amazing!" Bilbo shot her a dry look, to which she gave him a guilty smile. That's when three loud ominous knocks on the door, that caused all the laughter to fall into a sobering silence. Elizabeth could literally feel a weight in the air pressing down upon all over them. Gandalf's smile faded, and his grey eyes were weary which put her even more on edge.

"He is here."

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER**

**Elvish Translations:**

_1.) "Manen le, mellyn nin?" - _(How are you, my friend?)

_2.) "Im maer." -_ (I'm fine)

3.) Aldanniel-Ascender

**Timeline:**

**2746: **Thorin Oakenshield is born.

**2770: **The Sack of Erebor. (Smaug has driven the dwarves from Erebor and slaughtered hundred.)

**2779: **Battle of Azanulbizar (also known as the Battle of Nanduhirion and the Battle of Dimrill Dale) happens.

**2851, Third Age: **Elizabeth arrives in Middle Earth.

**2853, TA: **Elizabeth is rescued by Elrond and Glorfindel.

**2890, September 22: **Bilbo is born.

**2911, Third Age: **Elizabeth meets Bungo, Belladonna, and Bilbo during the Fell Winter. (Events will be added, as the story progresses to keep the timeline straight.)

**2941: The Current Year.**

**Okay, so I was thinking if I could have a song represent the type of relationship I want to build between Elizabeth and Thorin...what song would it be? I found the answer: 'I Know You Care' by Ellie Goulding. It is a wonderful, heartfelt song and I reccoment it. :D**

**Rrs are appreciated, and always answered. :D**


	6. Contracts and Funeral Arrangements

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.**

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

I want to thank BloodBlackAlchemist, Gingah18, LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, chrisd1016929, dianaemrys15, nbowles, Goalphabeticalorder, MYSTERYGEEK, Neewa, ThaliaHuntressGrace, Tiryn, aeriestar, , MissVanora, Prost, TerribleSuccubus, izatelles, jorja85, SprinklingStardust0596, Voletta97, gallant2195, Zinverai, WindyCorners, kassiopeia089, InezSophia, Ogregal, blushingpixie, valeries26, wishmaster720, SpiffyPixie1, cheechee123, BelievingInMiracles, Katya Romanov, FlyingHampsterOfDoom, Shasaria, CrazyDarkness15 and THE WALKING sexy AMC for the follows! Thank you!

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, MissVanora and Goalphabeticalorder, jorja85, Voletta97, gallant2195, WindyCorners, camsam17, Ogregal, blushingpixie, SpiffyPixie1, Prost, Shasaria, Jaxx Ren and DrAnime203 for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, Gingah18, SpiffyPixie1, Guest, Prost, Shasaria! **If I missed anyone just shout out at me in a review, or PM. :D**

**Guest Reviews:**

Guest: Thanks for the review! Hope you like the update.

**I would have had this updated earlier, but a few weeks ago my dog, Lulu, had to be put down. It really hit me hard because I've had her for seven years and she's always been with me. I go to sit down, she would be right there to sit beside me. I just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything let alone write, but I'm doing better. Not at a hundred percent, but better. Anyways I hope you all enjoy the chapter, as I have enjoyed your reviews. :D**

"Regular Talking"

'_Thought will be set up like this.'_

"_Elvish words and translation will be in italic." I've tried to use as much elvish from reliable sights as I could to get an authentic feel. Some things I don't have elvish for, but they will still be in italics so consider it elvish."_

**NOTICE: **The One Ring shall be dealt with. I will not leave it open ended, or merely not dealt with. Also it will not be a quick pop to Mordor and all is said and done. I am already working on it with the Lotr trilogy, movie and books, and it will be several chapters, but it's all going to say in one story. Also, certain dates will be changed due to plot needs, and with be marked in the timeline with a ** so there will not be any confusion with canon.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

"**Contracts and Funeral Arrangements" **

**2851**

**Unknown Location**

Elizabeth did not make a sound. Making noise made them hear her, made them come closer and in the dark stone room there were many shadows from which they could spawn. The only light was through a barred hole in the ceiling so far above, too high for her to reach. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her back was pressed against metals bars that left little doubt to where she was. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped the snot running from her nose on her sleeve. Her body hurt. The monster had taking a liking to clawing at her with its long, sharp nails, and he would laugh as she cringed or cried. When she did neither of those things, he would pat her head like she was dog or a pet. She could hear the others monsters, their squeals and disgusting laughte as screams of pain and agony echoed across the stone walls.

She pressed her palms to her ears trying to drown out the noise, while she clenched her eyes closed thinking hard about her mother holding her tight. She could almost feel it if she thought really hard about it. But the imaginary embrace could not ease the lump of fear that was permanently stuck in her throat, and she shivered violently. The walls were hard and cold, and…evil. This place was evil. She knew it. The feeling crawled along the walls, moved within the floors, and sometimes when it was quiet, she swore she could hear an oily whisper in her ears. The evil was coming from some deep, dark place that she couldn't see. A place she hoped she'd never see.

Her teeth chattered as she tried to pull the tore and ripped shirt around her for warmth and she curled into herself, wishing for nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare. She even pinched herself until her arms were covered in whelps, but it didn't help. Her eyes lids began to droop, exhaustion winning over her self-preservation when she jolted at a long bang echoing from the corridor. She sat there, froze by fear and heard footsteps shuffling towards her. They came out of the shadows, the monsters.

Their skin like leather and face contorted in pain and anger. Their eyes were beady and black and soulless. The two lumbered forward, their armor clinking with the effort, past her cell carrying something, but Elizabeth knew not what it was. She ducked her head down and tried to make herself as invisible as possible. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her lungs felt agonizingly tight and she clenched her eyes closed. _No more! Please no more! _Her mind cried out, and she pressed her face painfully into the wall wishing nothing more than to become one with it.

But the monster did not come in, instead they moved to the cell next to hers and ripped the door open and threw something in. Elizabeth twisted her head ever so slightly when the cell door slid closed, and in the center of the room on his knees hunched over, his face pressed against the dirty floor. He looked like a wild man, with his long frizzy hair that stuck out in all directions and his body shuddered with each painstaking breath.

For a moment, Elizabeth sat there motionless too stunned to move or make noise. The monsters stood at the cell door for several moments, before tossing a piece of mold bread into her cell. It landed on the cell floor and she could hear the scurrying feet of rats rush towards the food. She heard them speak to one another, their language felt like broken shards of glass against her ears, and she swore she saw the glimmer of teeth flash in the darkness. She tensed, and held her breath. More words were exchanged and the words 'Azog'-a word she heard often-was used. The two monster then quickly shuffled away, but not before tossing another piece of moldy bread into the cell next to hers. Elizabeth sat there, as still as a statue and waited until she could no longer hear them before she allowed herself to breath again.

Taking desperate gulps of air, Elizabeth trembled and looked into the other cell. There was strange feeling inside of her chest, perhaps like hope. She wasn't alone anymore. It had been such a long time since she had anything, but the company of monsters. A long time since she had anything, but pain. She found herself planting her feet against the floor, kicking away the rats that attempt to bite or scurry across her feet. She stood and slowly and softly padded across the icy cold floor. Her breaths came in sharp, greedy gasp as fear prickled along her spine. She stopped at the bars that separated her and this other person.

"Hello?" Her voice was barely audible, and her fingers tightened on the bars. Her eyes were narrowed, trying to peer through darkness and into the cell next to hers. For a moment, everything was silent. Too silent. Then two great hands reached through the bars, and grabbed her without warning. A scream was lodged in her throat, as the vice grip tightened around her neck. She found herself face to face with a wild man. His violent blue eyes filled with an agonizing madness, and he cursed and yelled in hard, deep language that made little sense to her ears. He shook her like she was a rag doll, and had it not been for the hold he had on her neck, her head would have been snapping around wildly. Black spots danced around her vision, and the choked noise escaped her throat painfully. Her heart thumped hard against in her ribcage, its beat rising with the onslaught of panic.

Her fingernails dug into his hands that seemed as hard as stone, and she felt hot tears running down her face. Her tongue curled to make desperate pleas, but the mad man seemed not to care about the pain he put her in. It felt like she was dying. She was certain that this was what dying was when suddenly, he let go.

She felt backwards, landing on her backside with more than a little force and hungrily sucked in the stale air. Her finger came up to hold her throat that throbbed painfully while her wide eyes stared up at the man who stood lifeless on the other side of the bars. His mouth was agape, and his eyes looked devastated as if he had just realized something horrible. For a moment, he looked completely sane then as swiftly as the sanity had come back, it was just as swiftly taken. She saw the madness consume his eyes and he turned away from her to pace his cell, muttering under his breath.

Elizabeth crawled back to her dismal cot, shaken and pale. Her heart felt like it had burst out of her chest, and her body felt as if she had just ran a mile long race. She slumped against the smelly cot and placed her hands over her ears to shut out his mad mumbling and closed her eyes tightly trying to shut out the rest of the world too.

* * *

**2941**

**The Shire**

Bag End was silent, like a tomb which was an entirely disturbing thought if Elizabeth did say so herself. Her lips were pressed together, all traces of laughter and merriment dissipating into something far more unsettling. The three knocks still echoed in her ears, and she stared at Gandalf who looked very grave. "He is here," the wizard announced.

For a moment, no one spoke or moved. It was like everything had frozen, and a wave of unease moved through the room and everyone in it. Elizabeth's muscles were tight, and coiled, her pulse jumping in her throat. "Bilbo, Elizabeth, with me if you please," Gandalf gestured for them to follow him. The hobbit and the woman in question shared a wary look. Bilbo looked hesitant while Elizabeth seemed uncertain. It made her remember…unpleasant things being surrounded like this. The two shuffled behind the wizard dutifully, and Elizabeth felt her heart thumping in her chest as they drew closer and closer to the door.

There was the feeling in the air, like an electric spark and she had this feeling in the pit of her stomach that by opening this door her life would irrevocably changed. The wizard's hand landed on the handle, and Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. Gandalf pulled the door open, and Elizabeth was instantly caught off guard. When she pictured this late dwarf, she had pictured many things and all of them were wrong. So wrong. He was not like Dwalin, nor Balin, not like Fili, not like any of the other dwarves.

This dwarf was…striking.

His hair was as black as a moonless night, like the color of a ravens wing with a few veins of silver streaking through it. It was long and flowed down his back stopping a few inches below his shoulders, while a short and trimmed beard covered his chin. A cloak with a fur collar was draped over his shoulders, and she caught the glint of armor upon his breast. "Gandalf," he spoke, his voice was like thunder. A soft rumble, a warning before the rain came pouring down. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice."

He stepped into Bag End, and his sheer presence encompassed the hallway, a sort of majestic magnetism just flowed off of him in waves. There was something regal about the way he held himself, as if he had the weight of the worlds resting upon his shoulders. A deep strength that she only encounter a handful of times in a handful of people. He was a warrior dressed in an impressive armor, and there was something that made her feel like everything in his life was hard won. And not just battles with a sword. He took off his cloak, and handed it over to Kili with an unconscious motion of trust.

_So Kili knows this dwarf, and they trust each other. _Elizabeth noted, tapping her chin with a thoughtful expression. They also looked very similar, Kili and this dwarf named Thorin. They had to be related. She also noted that the dwarves as he passed, bowed to him. _He is also someone of great importance to garner such a reaction from the others._

He was a wall of muscle, the layers of clothing and armor could not hide it. His body had been built from years of labor and battles and Elizabeth did not doubt there were be a fair number of scars upon his skin. He looked at the wizard, a faint amusement or perhaps it was exasperation on his face. "Wouldn't have found it all if not been for the mark on the door," he said, turning in such a way that the life cascaded over him.

"Mark? Oh, yes, _that _mark!" The hobbit crossed his arms, and glared at the wizard. "I just painted that door a week ago, Gandalf!"

Gandalf managed to look a tad contrite and sheepish, though Elizabeth believed that the wizard was far from apologetic. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company," the wizard easily evaded the argument. "Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin looked at Bilbo, tilting his head. His eyes was the color of the clouds of an oncoming storm, like the thunderclouds building up in the distance and he stared down his aristocratic nose at Bilbo. "So…this is the hobbit," Thorin murmured, looking Bilbo up and down clearly judging him.

Bilbo looked a tad taken aback by Thorin's attitude which was in stark contrast to that of the other dwarves. Thorin was composed, indifferent and aloof where the other dwarves had been generally loud and openly polite for the most part. His hips rolled with the gait of a predator, circling Bilbo like a wolf circling his prey looking for a weak spot. Elizabeth straightened, her instincts to protect rising inside of her but a quelling look from Gandalf held her back.

"Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin questioned, his voice serious and rough.

"Pardon me?" Bilbo blinked.

Elizabeth shot Gandalf a look which the wizard ignored.

"Axe or sword?" Thorin asked, quickly. "What is your weapon of choice?"

Bilbo had no weapon of choice. Even though Elizabeth taught him the basic of a sword several years ago before he came of age, he outright refused to wield one. Did Gandalf promise them someone who could fight? The hobbit looked over at her for a moment before answering, "Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant."

Thorin snorted, a sardonic tilt to his lips. "Thought as much," the dwarf said, his blue eyes looking down at Bilbo coolly. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

"And you look more like an ass than a dwarf," Elizabeth snapped, before she could help it. Gandalf just let out a little groan, as series of gasps of outrage or shock from behind her and the dwarf in question head snapped towards her.

Thorin's blue eyes narrowed as they swept over her. It was when he was this close that Elizabeth realized his eyes weren't only the color of an oncoming storm, but they held flecks of brilliant sapphire and vivid shades of lapis lazuli, too. They were staring at one another, and to her shock, he didn't take his gaze from hers, not for one second, not like everyone else who shied away from her unnatural eyes. No, his gaze pressed in on her and she felt something shift in the air as if binding them together in some ancient ritual she did not understand.

Thorin looked at her, an angry tilt to his head, and she was instantly reminded of a wolf that had come across an exceedingly stupid deer. "What did you just say?" His voice low and full over warning as he stepped closer to her.

Everything was so silent in Bag End, if a pin had been dropped the sound would have been deafening. Elizabeth fought the urge to shift nervously underneath such a piercing gaze, and clenched her jaw. She had faced wargs, orcs and looked death in the face several times. She would not allow herself to be intimidated by a dwarf. "Unless your hearing is impaired like your sense of direction, then you know exactly what I said," Elizabeth stated, a tight mocking smile upon her lips and if looks could kill she would be a pile of ashes by now.

"I did not know, Gandalf, that you kept such uncouth company," Thorin addressed the wizard, instead of her. A way of insulting her, she supposed.

"No more uncouth than you. What kind of man with manners, or propriety would insult their host on the doorstep of his house?" Elizabeth shot back.

"Enough," the wizard said, his voice echoing through the room. Immediately Thorin and Elizabeth both fell quiet, neither of them stupid enough to enrage the wizard further. "You'd both do well to remember your manners," Gandalf stated, scolding the pair and shooting them both a stern look. "Thorin Oakenshield, this is Elizabeth Morgan, a most trusted friend of mine."

Thorin straightened his shoulders, and looked at Elizabeth coolly. "You made no mention of her before now," Thorin stated, shooting Gandalf a flat look. The muscles in his throat were corded and tight with tension, and the vindictive part of Elizabeth hoped he got a migraine. The uptight rude jerk deserved it. "Do not tell me you expect me to bring this…woman with us?" He said, with no small amount of anger in his words.

"Woman?" Elizabeth glared, but Gandalf gave her a pointed look. She bit the inside of her cheek, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"It was a most pleasant surprise to find her here," Gandalf commented, carefully. Thorin gave a snort at the word pleasant, and Elizabeth bristled shooting him a dark look. "Elizabeth can be trusted if that is your concern," the wizard stated, confidently. "And she is no mere maiden, and you'd be mistaken to take her for one."

Thorin caught the warning in the wizard's voice, and he cocked his head ever so slightly. He craned his head to look at Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye. "Indeed?" Thorin appeared skeptical. His eyes raked over her, and it felt like a physical touch that brushed her skin. It took everything in her not to give an outward reaction, instead her hand came to rest on the hilt of her sword that was set up against the wall. The feel of weapon gave her a measure of comfort. His eyes followed the gesture, and his lips twitched into a faint sardonic smile that was almost gone as quickly as it appeared. "And what of you Miss…Morgan, was it?" He asked, his voice carrying a deep and rough timber. "What is your weapon of choice?"

Elizabeth's eyes flickered at Gandalf who was admiring a painting on the wall, and her hands clenched tightly. Instead of giving a straight forward answer, she asked with a sharp smile, "Do you think this sword if just for show?"

"Having a sword means nothing if you don't know how to use it," Thorin stated, arching a brow and looking ultimately unimpressed.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, comprehending his derisive statement. Thorin's blue eyes cutting as his face was impassive as the mountain's mighty face. _You asshole, _Elizabeth thought, just itching to strangle this man, and by the disgruntled expression on Bilbo's face she was not the only one with the urge to do so. "I assure you, Mister Oakenshield, that I know how to use a sword quite well," Elizabeth said, with a tight and sarcastic smile as her eyes burned into Thorin's. "Why don't you bend over and I'll show you?"

Thorin's smirk fell while there were a couple of dwarves who choked on laughter (probably Fili and Kili, maybe Nori too) from the other room as well as several gasps. Gandalf coughed to smother a chuckle and stepped into be mediator. "Elizabeth," the wizard gave her a pointed look, "I believe you saved some food for Mister Oakenshield."

Elizabeth stared at Thorin for a moment longer before looking over at the wizard. She gave him a dry look that clearly said, _Do I have to? _The wizard sent her a tired, and pointed look in return. She twisted her head back towards Thorin with a snakelike grace and her eyes ran across him from his head to his toes before she heaved a sigh. "Yes, we did…though now I wish we had fed it to the raccoons, at least they would be more polite," she said, the last part in a whisper. But in the silence, it was heard by all. Kili let out a laugh before he caught himself, and he ducked his head when Thorin shot him a stern look.

"You can have a seat in the dining room unless you'll have trouble finding your way there, too," Elizabeth said, spinning around on her heel and headed towards the pantry. Behind her, she heard the word 'insolent' and 'wench' come out of Thorin's mouth, and it made her smirk. She uncovered the plate of food, and headed towards the dining room. Thorin, of course, settled at the head of the table and looked like he belonged there. She had to resist the urge to drop unceremoniously but she knew Bilbo wouldn't appreciate that kind of damage to his mother's good china so she set it gently in front of the dwarf.

His blue eyes shot up to hers, and his lips twisted ever so slightly. With great reluctance, he managed to spit out a very insincere, "My thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied, smoothly. Half of her was tempted to call him an arrogant ass, but a sharp look from Gandalf managed to curb her tongue. At least, partially. "Though your thanks should go to Bilbo. He is the one who cooked."

Those blue eyes of his were unfathomable and unreadable, like a deep abyss that was filled with too much yet nothing at the same time. Elizabeth moved away, not willing to let him see how much his mere presence unnerved her. It was the strange feeling she had gotten when she had met Kili and Fili, only ten times stronger. A chord of familiarity struck somewhere in her memory though she could not place it to save her life.

The other dwarves had settled back in their seats, their jovial and joyous assertiveness had become a silent somberness that weighed heavily in the dining room. Bilbo half missed the loudness, though he would never admit such a thing out loud. The hobbit threw a glance at Elizabeth who stood off to the side. Bilbo came to stand beside her, for her reassurance or his, he was not sure. After Thorin ate a few bites, downing them a drink of ale did Balin break the tense silence. "What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin asked, his voice quiet and his eyes uncertain. "Did they all come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin confirmed. While the other dwarves murmured in joy, Elizabeth couldn't help but notice a line of tension that ran along Thorin's shoulders.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin asked, his face carefully blank.

"They will not come," Thorin stated. The mood in the room dropped, and the heavy weight of the atmosphere pressed down upon with her an almost crushing weight now. Elizabeth swallowed thickly, drawing in a long breath but it does not satisfy her lungs. He continued, his voice even and his face giving away nothing, "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"You're going a quest?" Bilbo paused, his eyes lit up with interest despite himself.

Elizabeth smothered a grin, while Gandalf cleared his throat. "Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," the wizard smiled at him kindly.

Bilbo nodded. "Right, of course," the hobbit said, and he shuffled out of the room. He returned only a second later with a candle in hand. As he sets in on the table, Gandalf pulled out an old piece of parchment from his robe and spreads it on the table revealing a map. All the dwarves lean forward for a glance, and Elizabeth did so too. "Far to the East, over the ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak," Gandalf spoke, his voice deep and enchanting.

"The Lonely Mountain…" Bilbo read the map.

"Erebor," Elizabeth recalled the name faintly, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. The name invoked images of grandeur, of a kingdom that had risen above all other. Of large vaulted ceilings crafted out a stone and gems, and a fountain of gold. An image of a star-shaped mountain, with six rides stretching out from a central peak as she traced the drawing on the map with her eyes.

Thorin shot her a look, his brows pinched.

"Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time," Gloin said, his eyes brimming with excitement. The others let out grumbled, and a few eye rolls.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold," Oin nodded, fiddling with his ear trumpet. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

"Uh," Bilbo looked concern, "What beast?"

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," Bofur stated, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Dragon," Elizabeth breathed out the word. Images of flames and death passed before her eyes, and the beast from her nightmare emerged with a startling clarity that left her shaken. "You lot intend to fight a bloody dragon," she said, looking at all of them unsure if she admiring their bravery or deem them all utterly insane.

"I'm not afraid!" Ori shouted, jumping to his feet. His young face the picture of determination. "I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie." That caused several other dwarves to shout their approval.

Dori however was not amused, his face paling at the very thought. "Sit down!" He snapped, jerking on his little brothers shirt. Ori sat down, looking a tad put out then annoyed when Dori proceeded to fret upon him. Nori was worried too, but he was more subtle about it by coming to stand behind his younger brother.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest," Balin commented, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. His comment, needless to say, was not well received by the present company for out cries from all around the table were heard.

"Hey, who are you calling dim?"

"Watch it!"

"No!"

"What did he say?" Oin asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. He fiddled with his ear trumpet in an attempt to hear better.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!" Fili stated, proudly puffing out his chest. It reminded Elizabeth a bit of male peacock stuttering around.

Elizabeth hummed in her throat, her eyes tracing the dragon drawing above the Lonely Mountain and her heart tightened painfully in her chest. "You all have heart, I will give you that," Elizabeth said, her voice soft, but grave. There was an unsettled tilt to her mouth and her right hand twitched. "But heart will only take you so far."

"And what would you know of such matters?" Thorin asked, callously. His blue eyes cut into her, a silent challenge lingering in the air. The shadows played across his face in an enticing way, highlighting his high swept cheek bones and the two braids down with silver clasps hung on either side of his face, enhancing the strong angles of his jaw.

"More than I care to," Elizabeth stated, her voice not mocking nor bitter. It was simple, matter of fact and it caused a indention to appear as Thorin's furrowed brow, the briefest flash of surprise flickering through his gaze. Those nightmares about the dwarves…the beast…the flames…She shot a questioning glance at Gandalf, but the wizard was carefully avoiding her gaze.

"But we have a wizard in our company!" Kili shouted suddenly, rising slightly from his chair. He tossed Gandalf a confident smile. "Gandalf will have killed hundred of dragons in his time!"

"Oh, well, now, uh, I-I-I wouldn't say that," Gandalf flushed, and it occurred to Elizabeth that she had never seen him this flustered before. What she would give to have a camera to preserve this moment, and have blackmail material.

"How many?" Dori inquired.

"Uh, what?" Gandalf blinked. Elizabeth let herself take in the wizard's blush with amused smile, and did not bother to hide it. With a mind of their own, her eyes drifted back to Thorin and her lips twisted downward in a delicate frown. There was a hum in the back of her mind, like something she needed to remember every time her gaze fell upon Thorin that feeling returned tenfold.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori asked, his face anxious. "Go on, give us a number!"

Gandalf coughed embarrassed, and fiddled with his pipe. Elizabeth closed her eyes, feeling the beginning of a headache as the dwarves shot to their feet, and shouted angrily. Elizabeth watched on, with a detached sort of expression. Thorin's expression is pinched, and the lines around his eyes tightened. He leapt to his feet, and brought down a fist on the table. Elizabeth jumped back, surprise and shock written on her face as she stared at the dwarf as if he had just lost his mind. Bilbo flinched back startled and took a step closer to Gandalf.

"Shazara!" Thorin bellowed, and everyone fell silent.

Thorin drew in a deep breath, composing himself. He stood to his full height, meeting all of the dwarves eyes and he began, his voice strong and willful, "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing…wondering…weighing the risk." His eyes were filled with such depth, and a deep, painful longing. A need to find home, to find what it meant to belong once more. Elizabeth felt a ripple of surprise run through her because she had seen that expression before, it was one she knew all too well. Her lips were parted in surprise as she stared at him, and he looked like a man who was carrying the weight of the past and future upon his shoulders. It looked like a heavy burden.

"Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours?" Thorin's jaw clenched, his voice rising and he raised his clenched fist. "Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!" He roared, and the group cheered.

Balin however had a pensive look in his eyes. "You forget," Balin commented, softly after the cheers died down, "the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf stepped forward, his hand slipping into his robe. Delicately he pulled out an ornate dwarvish key.

Thorin's face fell and he looked stricken. Wonder, hope and so much pain was in his gaze, and Elizabeth felt a pang in her chest at that look. "How came you by this?" His voice is rough with emotion, and Elizabeth swallowed thickly. It felt like she was intruding on an entirely private and painful moment for him, and she looked away as if to give him some privacy.

"It was given to me by your father…by Thrain," Gandalf commented, softly. "For safekeeping, it is yours now."

He held out the key, and Thorin took it slowly as if he feared it would disappear the moment he touched it. When it didn't, his hand curled around it possessively and he held it close to him staring down at as if it could answer all the questions swarming in his heart. His face was so bare with emotion in that moment that, but with great effort, Thorin schooled his features to become less caring and entirely detached. _As a King must be, _Elizabeth thought silently. It was quite a disconcerting feeling being torn between loathing the man and admiring him at the same time.

"If there's a key, there must be a door," Fili murmured, a smile on his face and his eyes alit with wonder.

Gandalf pointed at the runes on the map. "These runes speak of hidden passage to the lower halls," the wizard stated, with a half grin.

"There's another way in," Kili said, a tad breath with amazement clearly written in his eyes.

Elizabeth bit her lip, forcing herself not to smile at the brothers. It was official, dwarves liked to state the obvious. "Aren't dwarf doors invisible when closed? Like they blend in with the rocks or something?" Elizabeth asked, out loud. Everyone looked at her, and she paused under all those eyes feeling a tad put on the spot. "What? I can't know that?" She asked, wide eyed at all the stares.

"Indeed, they are," Gandalf said, saving her. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle Earth who can. That task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage," the wizard comment, shooting a look over at Bilbo who was still focused on the map as if to memorize it. "But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Oin stated.

"Hm. A good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine," Bilbo stated, half-heartedly.

"And are you?" Gloin asked.

"Am I what?" Bilbo blinked confused.

Elizabeth froze, then turned to look at Gandalf. "Gandalf the Grey you can't possible think," she began, her voice low and filled with more than a little bit of venom however she was cut off by Oin.

"He said he's an expert!" Oin shouted, with his poor hearing thought he had Bilbo say such a thing.

"He most certainly did not!" Elizabeth said, fiercely.

"I did not!" Bilbo gasped, horrified.

Laughter echoed around the dining room. Bilbo's eyes widened, and Elizabeth glared at the wizard. The hobbit stuttered out, "M-me? Burglar? No! No, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; Ive never stolen a thing in my life! I am not a burglar," he stressed every word so there would be no misunderstandings this time.

"I'm afraid I have to agree," Balin said, not unkindly. "Mr. Baggins is hardly burglar material."

Bilbo nodded in agreement, which made Elizabeth frown hard. She looked at her friend, and wondered if he truly did not know his true merit. He could be damn sneaky when he wanted to be, and he had stolen plenty things. Of course nothing as extravagant as jewels or coin, and certainly not from a dragon but that didn't meant that Bilbo could snatch a bracelet off of someone's very wrist while looking them in the eye the entire time without them knowing. He had done that to Lobelia, twice.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin concurred with his brother.

Bilbo pointed at Dwalin, and nodded in agreement. Elizabeth threw him a strange glance. Did he not recall the hell he had survived during the Fell Winter? And the things he dealt with in the aftermath? She rubbed her fingers against the palm of her right hand that tingled painfully, and looked away from the hobbit. Bilbo lacked such faith in himself was really heartbreaking.

Kili glowered slightly at Dwalin. "I think he'll be fine!"

Fili nodded, while Dori shook his head muttering. All the dwarves were throwing their opinions around loudly trying to speak over the others. Elizabeth noticed that Bifur was making hand gestures and she picked up on a few things that were less than polite about Bilbo. Each passing second, Elizabeth felt a tension rising within her. Her muscles tightened, and tensed and she drew in a deep breath. "Enough!" She shouted, and instantly the room went quiet in shock at her outburst. Even Gandalf had jumped, though he would deny it later when asked.

Bilbo's eyes widened, and he stared at Elizabeth in shock. Her spine was straightened drawing herself to her full height, and stared down her nose at all the dwarves with a tight, no nonsense expression reminding him of an ice queen in old story his mother used to tell him when he was a child. He had only seen Elizabeth look this way one other time, and it wasn't something he like to dwell on it.

Elizabeth looked at all the dwarves, her gaze falling on Thorin lastly. "Whether or not, Bilbo chooses to join you is entirely up to him," Elizabeth stated, firmly. "However, I've known that Bilbo for a long time and he is by no means helpless. He has survived things that no one should have to go through. There is a great deal more to him than you know, and you'd be damn lucky to have him on your side. He'd make an excellent burglar, given the chance."

Bilbo looked torn between being touched by her faith in him, and being annoyed that she put him on the spot like that. She probably would have laughed if thing had been less serious, but she didn't laugh nor quirk even a tiny smile. She kept her face carefully held in place, as her stomach twisted into violent knots. Stormy blue eyes rooted her to the spot, as if weighing the worth of her words.

"Indeed," Gandalf took over, his eyes twinkling madly. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they so choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." The wizard shot Thorin a look, and he said, "You must trust me on this."

His lips twisted down into a frown, a grudging reluctance flickering through across his before he let out a sigh and twisted away from Elizabeth dismissing her. "Very well. We will do it your way," he stated, despite Bilbo protesting 'no, no, no' behind him. "Give him the contract."

"Uh…please, no," Bilbo stated, but Balin handed the contract over to Thorin who practically shoved it over his shoulder at Bilbo. Bilbo stumbled back, grasping at the piece of paper with a stricken expression on his face.

"Alright!" Bofur cheered. "We're off!"

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration funeral arrangements, so forth," Balin commented, trying to ease the hobbit's worries.

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo looked at Elizabeth.

"Adventures…have their hazards," Elizabeth admitted, giving him a half smile. Her eyes flickered to Thorin who rose from his seat, and leaned towards Gandalf.

"I cannot guarantee their safety," Thorin stated, gravely.

"Understood," the wizard gave a sharp nod.

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate," Thorin said, his expression was so hard that it looked like it was carved out of marble instead of flesh.

"Just his fate?" Gandalf said, faintly surprised.

Thorin paused, then glared at the wizard. "Nor will I be responsible for the girl's," Thorin added, darkly with a sneer. Elizabeth barely contained the roll of her eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest. She could take of herself. With all she had endured, she had made damn well certain that she could do that.

The grey wizard eyed the dwarf for a good moment before nodding. "Agreed," Gandalf said, before turning to face the hobbit. Bilbo was walking around while reading off the contract outloud.

"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair," he murmured, unaware of all the eyes upon his back. "Eh, present company…shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations…evisceration…incineration?" Bilbo's voice rose filled with incredulity. He spun around swiftly, and sent Elizabeth a sharp look. "This?" He wagged the contract in the air. "This is what you meant by adventures are hazardous?"

"Well," Elizabeth flushed, "to be fair, I've never dealt with dragons before so…uh, I can't be an expert on what kind of injuries they could dish out. I mean…you could get burnt…a lot?" She said, with an unhelpful half smile and shrug of her shoulders.

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur added, a little bit too cheery for such a grim subject.

"Huh?" Bilbo blinked.

"That's a disturbing mental picture," Elizabeth said, her nightmare once again in the forefront in her mind. The color blanching out of her face, and she saw that Bilbo wasn't fairing much better.

"You all right, laddie?" Balin inquired.

Bilbo bent over, taking a deep breath. He looked a bit green, and pained. The contract trembling between his fingers. "Uh, yeah…feel a bit faint is all," the hobbit said, breathlessly.

"Think of a furnace with wings," Bofur added.

"Air…I need air," Bilbo said.

"Flasf of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash," Bofur continued on oblivious to what he was doing to the poor hobbit.

"Bofur," Elizabeth said, sternly.

"Ah…" Bofur paused, seeming to realize that perhaps his description weren't helping at all.

"Hmmm…" Bilbo wobbled on his feet. "Nope." His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Elizabeth saw his knees buckle beneath him. She rushed forward, and grabbed him just before he hit the floor. Lowering him slowly, she knelt down on her knees and checked over him worriedly.

"Bilbo?" She reached up, tapping his cheek with the palm of her hand. "Bilbo?" She asked, again lightly shaking him.

"Ah, very helpful, Bofur," Gandalf grumbled.

Bofur gave a helpless shrug. Dwalin snorted, while Dori scolded Nori for laughing. Kili stretched his neck to see over Ori's head, and asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

"He'll be fine," Elizabeth said. Her face was full of concern, and she ran a hand gently through Bilbo's curls. His face was still pale, and there was furrow of worry to his brow. "I think…."

* * *

Elizabeth and Gandalf took Bilbo into the sitting room, setting him in the chair. His eyelashes fluttered, and his eyes cracked open a little groan escaping his lips. He blinked rapidly several times before his gaze focused on Elizabeth. A relieved smile appeared on his lips, and Bilbo said, "Oh, Elizabeth, you won't believe the weirdest dream I just…" he trailed off when he saw Gandalf sitting in the other chair and his face fell. "Oh…what a nightmare…"

If she had been a lesser person, she would have laughed. Elizabeth gave him a look of sympathy before shooting Gandalf a glare. The wizard merely blinked, looking completely innocent. Elizabeth snorted, and patted Bilbo on his shoulder before rising gracefully from the arm of the chair. "I think I should leave you two to talk," she commented. When the hobbit shot her a panicked look, she added with a snort, "Holler at me if you need me."

"Will do," Bilbo said, meekly glaring at Gandalf.

Elizabeth walked out of the room, and opened the hallway closet. In it were blankets, linen, and pillows. She gathered as much as she could in her hands, and began to set up places for all the dwarves to sleep. She put her whole focus on the task, trying to drown out all the talking, trying to allow herself to think. But the more she thought, the more and more she found she was not liking the idea of this adventure. Her stomach was aching tied in proverbial knots at the very idea and warning bells with ringing in her ears.

Her hands shook as she neatly spread out the blanket on a couch that would have to serve as someone's bed. The dwarves scurrying around like ants, and she watched the fire cast their shadows against the walls. The flickering flame brew images of death inside of her skull. She sucked in a deep breath, the taste of ash upon her tongue and it made her shudder violently. Invisible flames wrapped around her finger tips, and the skin started to blotch red as if she really was holding it close to an open flame. The fire beast from her mind came into complete focus.

A sharp image of a beast towering over her, with scales as red as blood and snake like eyes filled with so much hatred and malice. A dragon…it was a dragon. Did the story of Smaug the Terrible alter her memory of the dreams, or had the dream just become clearer now that she remembered? A layer of sweat broke out across her skin, and she felt sick to her stomach. Her felt like any second it would burst out of her chest, and a horrible epiphany hit her as the blanket slid out of her hand onto the floor. _Of course it did, stupid! This is what Gandalf meant about finding out the answers! _The epiphany hit her like a punch to the gut. She stood up shakily and made her way through the throng of dwarves who were curiously examining the hobbit hole commenting on it's craftsmanship. She rounded the corner, and passed through Balin and Thorin with a soft, "Pardon me."

Thorin watched her for a long moment, his blue eyes tracing along her until she rounded a corner and he heard the front door open and close. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, life had not been an easy one by any means. One tragedy after another, and he had to keep his head high and continue to lead his people no matter what the cost may be. His blue eyes studied the hobbit hole, filled with knick knacks and warmth. It was quaint and simple, nothing like Erebor and yet it was home to this hobbit as Erebor was home to him. He would be a liar if he did not admit that the Shire's peaceful lands did not appeal to him, the prosperity that was here was one he had longed to see for his own kingdom one day. And while he admitted that, he also begrudged them their peace and plenty for it had taken him several years (practically a lifetime in the eyes of man) to provide that for his family, and his people. Years of moving from one place to the next with no steady job, or means of support. Years of being ridiculed and cheated through the ignorance of man and elves. He knew what it was like to be starved, he knew what it was like to be beaten down, he had been oh so weary, but he never broke. And he moved forward. The Blue Mountains were a blessing, and through hard work, he had built a new life for his Kingdom.

But…the painful longing in his heart reminded him, the Blue Mountains were not home. Even now, after so many years that he had fought to make it so, it was not truly his. With the fall of Erebor, Thorin's power as King had also dwindled and the nobles who were once his grandfather's council had more say and power and it was their funds that helped make the Blue Mountains what they were today. A fact that they had constantly reminded him of, and a reason they protested so heavily on the quest for Erebor. If he reclaimed Erebor, Thorin would not have to rely so heavily on them and the council feared their loss in power.

Thorin cared not. After so many years spent in exile, and roaming the lonely hills, he could practically taste the fresh mountain air. He could smell the scent of pine trees upon the breeze, and in his mind as clear as the day he left, he could see Erebor still standing tall. He was so close, and nothing would dissuade him now. Not even the other kingdom's refusal to come could crush his the hope that burned within his like a smoldering fire, instead it spurred him on with a defiant need to prevail where they all said he would fail. He looked at the thirteen dwarves that had answered his call, and watched them wander around the home with curious gleaming in their eyes.

He had not been lost like he had claimed. He had arrived in front of Bag End, he had heard the laughter and merriment from inside, and he had not the heart to knock on the door right away. There would not be time for such frivolous things on the road, so he gave them a few more minutes of reprieve while he stood outside and gathered his thoughts. Or brood, as Kili was fond of pointing out often. He listened as Gandalf tried to persuade the hobbit to join the quest, and Thorin hoped the hobbit wouldn't join.

This quest was not for the faint of heart.

"_You all have heart, I will give you that. But heart will only take you so far." _Thorin jerked ever so slightly, remembering the woman's words. A flicker of suspicion, of menace, crossed Thorin's brooding features as he glanced out the window. He could see her standing in the hobbit's yard, arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders hunched. She was a slight thing with the height of dwarf (she stood a few inches shorter than himself), but clearly a child of man by her lack of beard, and her limbs that were lithe and wiry, though he couldn't help to notice she did had the proper curves in all the right places. She was a classic beauty with a soft jaw, and high swept cheek bones pair with a tiny aquiline nose. She stood straight, her head held high with a sense of entitlement like someone of high birth however he doubted that. No nobility in their right mind would allow their daughter to run around dressed as a man, with a weapon upon her hip.

Her eyes were the most startling thing about her though her attitude was a close second. They were startling shade of cobalt with specs of saxe lingering around them, and stems of dark black shooting out of her iris. There was this glow to them, an inner light and ring of yellow a gold hidden right at the edge of the iris like a well kept secret. They were beautiful, and entirely unnatural. Inhuman. He clutched the key tightly in his hand, shoving such thoughts away. He had no need of distractions, and that is all that woman would be on this journey. An unnecessary distraction.

And Thorin felt his frustration towards her grow. What an irritating little thing she was underneath that sweet face, and innocent eyes. Her spirit was admirable, and he by no means thought women were subservient to men (if he ever made just a statement his sister would have his head and Erebor would have Queen instead of a King). However her attitude towards him in front of his men-men he was expected to lead-was utterly unacceptable. His face contorted in a dark look, and he turned away from her. His leaned back against the wall, crossing his ankles and appeared every bit of relaxed if it weren't for the hand that rested upon his sword. Dwalin stood off to his right, while Balin sat in a chair adjacent from him.

Dwalin looked out the window at Elizabeth, then at Thorin cocking up an eyebrow. "Quite the little spitfire, isn't she?" He commented, with a slight smirk.

Thorin glared darkly.

"Oh, aye," Balin agreed, with a sly glint in his eye. "With a sharp tongue that would put many of our women to shame. The only other woman I seen with a quick wit like that is Lady Dis."

Thorin frowned, a guilt in his blue eyes. He would never forget how upset Dis had been when they had left, how she said she would never forgive him if they did not come back home alive, or how she would never forgive him if anything happened to her boys. "It matters not how sharp her tongue," Thorin intoned, the lines around his eyes tightening with annoyance. "I doubt she and the so called burglar will come. It will better that way. Our journey cannot afford such distractions."

"So the woman would be a distraction?" Dwalin arched an eyebrow, his lips curling in amusement. Thorin gave him a flat look that told him that his amusement was not shared. "I wouldn't dismiss her so easily, Thorin. I have seen her with a bow."

"You have?" Balin asked, surprised.

"Aye." Dwalin nodded. "In the forest on my way here. She…uh, she caught me off guard," he admitted, a bit sheepish about that which cause Balin to chuckle and Thorin's lips to quirk upward ever so slightly. "But her aim was true. Shot a deer straight through the heart."

"Hmm," Thorin tilted his head in consideration.

"That's what I thought." A voice broke him out of his reprieve and he caught the hobbit's shadow cast on the wall of him rising from his seat. "Sorry. Gandalf. I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit." With that the Hobbit walked down the hall, and Thorin could hear the wizard sigh.

"It appeared we've lost our burglar," Balin noted, with a deep sigh. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us," Dwalin commented.

"Old warriors," Balin retorted.

"I will take each and ever one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills," Thorin stated, strongly looking between his two long time friends. His head was raised, and his eyes were ablaze with determination. "For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart." Thorin allowed his façade to fall for the brief of moments, and he looked at the group of dwarves with gratitude upon his face. "I can ask no more than that."

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice," Balin said, feeling that it had to be said. "You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

Dwalin nodded in agreement.

Thorin gave the lightest shake of his head, and held up the king that Gandalf gave him. "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin," Thorin spoke, his voice firm and strong. "Not for me."

Balin stared at him for a long moment before nodding. Dwalin clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."

_Or we will die trying, _Thorin thought, with a heavy heart. His eyes cast downward to the key clutched in his hand, and his resolved hardened like mithril. He had to succeed, he had no other choice and he would let nothing get in his way.

* * *

Elizabeth stood staring up at the night sky. The wave of calm, and solace that the Shire air usually brought her did not come. Not one tiny ounce of respite flooded through her soul and she found herself pacing in front of the hobbit hole. Her eyes danced from the green door to the glowing symbol to fresh blooming flowers, but her thoughts did not stray from fire and death. She walked down the path, and found a sit on Bilbo's favorite bench and placed her head into her palms.

Elizabeth had a thirst for adventures, to run along the open road without a thought of nothing excepting moving forward. Because moving forward then she had never to look back, not really. If she could keep the past and pain so far behind it couldn't catch up with her. But this quest…the quest for Erebor was different than anything else she had done before. It was a cold feeling, so cold that it burned, settling in the pit of her stomach like a stone.

Erebor. The reason that the smell of burnt flesh was constantly present around her, the reason for phantom flames to snake up her arms and threat to burn her from the inside out until she was nothing but ash. For years she had wondered, but no one had answers for her. Or perhaps, they just weren't willing to share them.

Her pulse was jumping painfully in her throat, and pressed her fingers against her mouth as she stared into the night that surrounded her. Did she really want the answers now? Would it truly matter after ninety years? Her mind said that it wouldn't, that she had made a life here and had mourned the past. Yet, there was this deep empty ache inside her heart that contradict that thought. The air was thick with tension that one could cut it with a knife, and her stomach rolled unpleasantly. A shadow fell over her, but she stared down at the cobblestone path tracing a patterns in the stones whimsically while she tried to sort out all her thoughts.

"I take it that your conversation with Bilbo didn't go so well?" Elizabeth asked, quietly. She knew it wouldn't. It would take something profound to encourage the hobbit to leave his home, and Gandalf's meddlesome ways hadn't endeared him to Bilbo in any way.

"He will see reason." The wizard let out a huff, before he joined her on the bench. His staff knocking against the ground as he set it to rest against the fence, his blue eyes moving around aimlessly. "But what of you, Elizabeth? What will you do?" The wizard asked, calmly.

"I…I don't know. I am not sure I can do this, Mithrandir," Elizabeth said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands were quaking from where she held them on her lap. Inside her head all she could see were visions of fire, and death, and it was so hard to breath.

"So you prefer to sit here and hide?" Gandalf quirked up an eyebrow, but she didn't reply. Instead, Elizabeth curled into herself ever so slightly and her expression was uncharacteristically blank. "What are you hiding from, Elizabeth?"

"Everyone. Everything." _Myself. _Going on this quest would have her confront things that she had thought she had settled and put away forever. Clearly not. Her expression was troubled, and her blue eyes riddled with confusion. "I am not heartless," she said, after a moment. "I'm not. Bilbo's not. Just because we don't say yes, doesn't means that we are heartless."

"I would never say you were," Gandalf's voice was firm, and he shot her a look that made her feel guilty for snapping at him so. "In fact, my dear girl I would not call you heartless, I would say that you have too big of a heart, and that you feel too much."

She stood there arms crossed, and looking at him stubbornly. Her head moved back and forth slightly, and she heaved a sigh that rippled through her entire body before raking a hand down her face. "What do you want from me, Gandalf?" She asked, her voice betraying her by breaking.

"Your help," Gandalf said simply.

"It's never just that simple," Elizabeth said, with a shake of her head. "You know it is not that simple. Don't make it sound so simple when it's not."

"Of course not," the wizard stated, twirling his staff between his fingers. He drew a deep breath, and his grey blue eyes peered up at her. "Important things seldom are."

"Then why?" Elizabeth asked. A somber feeling had settled over Bilbo's home, and the shadows seemed more pronounced in this gloomy state. She watched the wizard's brow furrowed as he fiddled with the smoking pipe he pulled out of his coat that was somehow already lit.

"I know your scars run deep, and I am not just talking about the ones you can see. I want to give you a chance to heal, to finally mend what is broken. One that you could not find with the elves, or on your travels no matter how hard you tried," Gandalf explained, his voice full of somber and sorrow. "I believe with them," he nodded back towards the dining room, "that you can."

"And what you think all the king's men and all the king's…" She waved her hand in a careless gesture towards the other room and paused for the briefest of moments, "…_dwarves_," she said, dryly, "can put Humpty Dumpty back together again?"

"Elizabeth," Gandalf's hard tone caused her to flinch ever so slightly. "This is not a matter to joke of, and you well know it. You will not find a way to break your curse standing idly by, nor will you find the solace your soul so desperately needs by running away everything good that comes your way," Gandalf said, his voice firm and unwavering. "You know how it is to lose all hope, to have your home and family stripped away from you with no hope of every getting them back. These dwarves share your pain, and after so long without no hope, they are given some. Even if you can't see your home again, these dwarves can and if you can help them with that, wouldn't you?"

It felt like he had punched all the air out of her gut, leaving her standing there in pain. Her chest seized feeling tight and constricted while her heart pounded against her ribs. Gandalf smiled knowingly and sympathetically. "And Erebor is not just important to those dwarves," the wizard stated, rise from the bench while sending a smoke ring into the air. "It is important to you, too. Or have you forgotten already?"

Elizabeth gave him a glare, her hand reaching up across the nape of her neck and to the braid hidden underneath the curtain of hair. Her finger tips pressed against the bead there and she felt her heart jolt in her chest. "I…I haven't forgotten," she swallowed thickly. "I promised not to."

She pulled her shaky hand away abruptly, immediately pulling herself from the darker time. "I need to check on Bilbo," she said, softly and walked around the wizard. Her hand reached for the front door when her ears heard something…a deep humming sounds coming from inside Bag End and Elizabeth looked back at Gandalf in confusion. "What is that?" She asked, her brows pinched.

The wizard gave a small shrug of his shoulders, and Elizabeth frowned, pulling the door open. She stepped through the threshold into Bag End and followed the sound. She couldn't help it, the somber air and rhythm sunk into her limbs and drew her closer and closer. She rounded the corner, holding her breath and she stopped in the doorway to stare at all the dwarves. When Thorin had arrived, the dwarves had toned down their rowdiness, but this…this was something else entirely.

Grief. Pain. Loss. It was on all of their faces. The dwarves sat all around the living room, their eyes staring outward at something she couldn't see. Her eyes drifted across them, the pain in all their eyes burning into her mind like the fires from her nightmares and lastly they landed on Thorin who stood by the fire place. His elbow carelessly draped over the mantle, a pipe clasped in his right hand as he stared down at the fire. His voice was deep and rich, mesmerizing as he hummed a gentle, and haunting tune.

"_Far over the misty mountains cold,_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old."_

All the breath whooshed out of her, stolen away the second Thorin opened his mouth and started to sing. His voice was deep, rich and sent chills across her skin. His eyes reflected the image of fire, and the haunt of death was written upon his face. For a moment, he looked vulnerable as if he was laying his heart bare in that song and allowing his grief to show those his façade of indifference. Balin's soft and emotion filled voice weaved with Thorin's to make the melody all that more haunting.

"_We must away ere break of day,_

_To find our long-forgotten gold."_

Elizabeth felt tears fill her eyes, and she pressed a hand to her chest. The pain came off of him like tidal waves rushing towards the coastline, and she leaned against the doorway to help keep herself up. It wasn't gold that they sung about, as the words spilled off of all the dwarves tongues as they all sung now. It made have came out as gold, but Elizabeth heard the word 'home'. Her chest felt tight like it was on fire and emotions that she hadn't allowed herself to feel stirred forth, and white hot tears ran down her cheeks before she could help them.

Gandalf put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and he seemed to anchor her in the torrent of feelings that threatened to rip her apart from the inside out.

"_The pines were roaring on the height,_

_The winds were moaning in the night,_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread,_

_The trees like torches blazed with light."_

And she knew she was lost.

All her doubts suddenly faded away somehow as she stared at Thorin, unable to look away from him. His pain, such desolation and grief, tore down through her walls and she knew that she was going on this quest. She couldn't not go. Not now. Every horrible nightmare, every horrible vision of fire and death hit her one playing right after the other and she felt the tears slid down her cheeks. How could she not go? She asked herself. How could not see it through? The bead braided at the nape of her neck felt impossibly heavy and she closed her eyes, her wet lashes fell upon her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes as she turned and looked over at Gandalf who's face was grim and grave. Her eyes met his and whatever he saw in her gaze made the years ease up off of his face, and a tiny smile to curve at his smile. He pulled a contract out of his cloak, and held it out towards her.

For a moment, Elizabeth just stared at the outstretched hand then she let out a deep sigh. Taking the contract from the wizards hand, she turned and went looking for a quill and some ink so she could sign it never noticing the pair of intense blue eyes watching her every step of the way.

* * *

**2851**

**The Cell**

The sound of thunder startled her awake.

Rain drops dropped through the crude hole in the barred ceiling, and hit her face luring her further back into consciousness. Her eyes glanced up in time to see lightning streak across the sky, and her heartbeat pounded in her eardrums like a staccato. Her body ached from head to toe, covered in cuts and bruises. Her back got the worse of the beatings she had endured on a daily bases. The monster favored the whip, and she wasn't sure she had any skin left on her back anymore. She flinched back from the thunder, and curled into herself. She had never liked thunderstorms. No stories her mother conjured of angels bowling could even change that. She pressed her back against the wall painfully and her fingers dug into her sides as fear ripped through her leaving her breathless.

The shadows seemed darker, and the evil vibe that came from the prison seemed to increase tenfold. Her stomach rolled violently as the growl of thunder echoed off the walls, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip until it bled. In the next cell to her, she heard the mad mumblings from the occupant and knew the storm had woke him, too.

There was more than a few times that she was afraid of him, but she would rather have the company of a mad man than those monsters any day. She didn't know what to make of him, but a new fear began to build inside of her heart. Would she eventually become like him? Mad and insane? Is this what this place did to people? A tremble ran down her spine, and she curled her feet protectively underneath her to keep them from getting cold. Her bottom lip quivered, and not for the first time, she pinched her arm. And as always…it did not work. She did not miraculously wake up. The nightmare did not suddenly end. There was no dad telling her it was going to be okay, no mom to wrap her in a warm hug. A cold, numb feeling settled over her and she felt her heart sink like a stone in her chest.

"Elizabeth," she suddenly spoke, her voice rough and raw from all her screaming. The madman froze, his gaze briefly flickering towards her and his eyes narrowed in suspicion as if he couldn't understand why she was talking before he went back to his mutterined. She didn't know why she felt compelled to say it, or to tell him. Perhaps it was because she felt so alone, and so empty like a jack-o-lantern.

"Elizabeth," she repeated, once more. She shivered when the pair of crazed eyes turned her way once more, but she held the stare surprising herself. The madman cocked his head to the side, as if not entirely sure he was seeing her or was confused by her presences. Maybe it was the loneliness that set her upon her feet, and made her approach the man who had attacked her only a week before. Or maybe it was something else, Elizabeth really didn't know. All she knew was that her mom and dad weren't going to magically appear and make this better. She was stuck here in this cell, and for how long that would be-whether she find a way out, or…worse-she didn't want to be forgotten. She didn't want to be like all those other kids on the milk cartons with the word MISSING above their photos with nothing else to be remembered by.

She stared straight into the man's eyes, and pointed at her chest. "_Elizabeth_," she slowly pronounced her name, while tapping her finger to her chest to emphasize what she meant. His eyes flickered from her face down to her hand, some kind of realization hitting his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, and he looked at her with his brows furrowed. "Can you say that? Elizabeth?" She asked, feeling more tired. And old. She felt old.

She knew what old looked like. Gray or white hair. Wrinkles like grandmas and grandpas had, but she never understood what older people meant when they said they felt old until now. It was a heaviness that was down upon her, like a constant weight that would not go away. She stared at the crazy man, and tapped her chest. "_Elizabeth_," her voice louder, and more insistent.

The madman's lips pursed.

After another moment of silence, Elizabeth's shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes in silent defeat. She almost lost herself to exhaustion when she heard a rumbling voice say, "E…Eliz…Eliza." She jolted back to awareness and with wide eyes looked at the madman. Her heart was pounding her chest, as she stared at him working on sounding out her name. Her feet hit the floor and she drew closer to the other cell ignoring the rain that came crashing down upon her. Her tiny fingers wrapped around the bars, and held tight.

The madman pointed towards her, his brows furrowed. "Eliza…Elizabeth?" He stumbled over her name, the sound of it strange coming off his tongue.

"Elizabeth," she nodded. There was a strange feeling in her chest, like a swell of hope. Her face stretched into a smile, as a slightly high pitched laugh escaped her mouth. She didn't know why hearing her name made her so happy. It made her feel like she wasn't alone. "Now, you," she pointed at him, her finger tapping his chest. "Who are you?"

"Ouu…You?" The madman blinked.

"No, no," Elizabeth shook her head. "Elizabeth," she pointed at herself, then pointed back at him. She saw his eyes fill with realization and his opened his mouth a syllable on his lips only for his mouth to fall closed and confusion clouded his gaze. For several moments, she watched him struggle and it hit her like a punch to the gut. "You don't know…do you?" Elizabeth stared at him, a bit of fear and sadness moving through her. Is that what would happen to her? Would she eventually become like him and lose her name? The madman bowed his hand, his hands moved across his ragged clothing as if perhaps he had his name written down somewhere, but he came up empty.

"You don't know your own name," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. He raised his head, his blue eyes look straight into hers, and Elizabeth found herself pointing straight at him. "Charlie," she spoke, her voice suspiciously tight. Her finger hit his chest, and . "You can be Charlie."

* * *

**2941**

**The Shire**

**Bag End**

Elizabeth strapped her sword to her waist, as well as her quiver, while her mind raced a million miles a minute. She was so lost in thought and getting ready that she did not see nor hear Bilbo sneak up on her.

"So you signed the contract," the hobbit said.

Her spine stiffened, the only indication that she was surprised, before she gave a nod. "Yes. I signed the contract," Elizabeth stated, quietly. She picked up her green cloak and swung it around her shoulders, her fingers nimbly fastening it around her neck.

Bilbo made a noise of distress and frustration. "You can't be serious, Elizabeth. They are going after a dragon! A real…fire breathing dragon," he breathed out, sounding a bit faint.

"I am aware of that, Bilbo," she spared him a small smile, as she did a mental check to make sure she was leaving nothing that she needed behind. "I read the contract, just like you did."

"Then why? I mean, I know you like adventuring and though I can't for the life of me understand why you do, this is a bit more than just a simple journey with a couple of orcs or wargs to slay!" The hobbit looked at her, aghast. "Why in the world would you want to do this?"

Elizabeth studied him, for a quiet moment before she pulled him into a tight hug. She heard him huff, but he returned the hug nonetheless. When she pulled back, she cupped his face between her to hands and her lips quirked upward in a half smile. "Bilbo, we don't live for ever and more than half the time, most people aren't living. They just exist. We can be here one second, then gone the next and if we live life safely we risk the chance of never letting anything touch us," Elizabeth told him, softly. Her hands dropped from his face, and she took a step back. Her eyes danced around the room, across the shadows that clung to every surface. "It may be a safe existence, and if that is truly what you long for then no one should begrudge you for it. However," she took a step towards him, and looked into his hazel eyes, "if there is a part of your heart, a part of it that jolts or hopes, for something more than just existence…sign that contract. You'll regret it if you don't."

Bilbo opened his mouth, but quickly shut it when he floundered for words. Elizabeth gave him an encouraging smile before walking out the door. She silently made her way through the house, it's occupants all had headed to bed.

All except one, Elizabeth found as she took a short cut through the dining room and found Thorin sitting in the darkened room, staring at the dying fire. Swirls of smoke rose into the air from the pipe that was held in his hand, and he seemed very deep in thought. Elizabeth hesitated for the briefest of moment before she cleared her throat to announce her presence. His posture immediately tensed, and his gaze became guarded as it fell upon her. His blue eyes glanced at her weapons and cloak, and he cocked up his right brow. "Going somewhere?" He asked, his voice suspiciously light.

"I have business I need to take care of," Elizabeth informed Thorin, while passing him the contract. His long, thick fingers gripped the paper and crinkled it slightly. "I shall meet with you and the company at the outskirts of the Shire in the morn."

Thorin's nostrils flared slightly, and he looked for a moment to protest when his eyes flickered to the tall figure in grey. His gaze turned back to Elizabeth, resigned. "Very well," he intoned, with a slight incline of his head. "But to not tarry. If you are not there by the time we leave, then you will be left behind."

"Don't worry," she told him, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I won't be."

She stared at him for a moment longer, that strange tug of familiarity stirring in the back of her mind and she opened her mouth to ask something, when she thought better of it. "Til tomorrow, Master Oakenshielf," she said, with a thin smile and slight incline of her head. She then headed towards the green door, leaving Thorin to his thoughts. There was a chill in the air as she stepped outside, and the sound of the green shutting behind her sounded so final.

She looked above and admired the twinkling stars. Their beauty never faltered, and never failed to amaze. A bitter smile appeared on her lips as she greeted the lonely man on the moon. It looked like the same moon, even thought logically she knew it wasn't the same moon. A sigh of longing fell from her lips, and she turned her eyes away from the sky and started down the path.

She didn't have to dawdled. She had things she needed to do.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER!**

**Next chapter: **The journey begins, but a mysterious stranger and an untold danger may spell trouble for Thorin and co.

**If anyone wants to know what Elizabeth's armor looks like, it's based on the Nightingale Armor from Skyrim. Instead of black, it's green.**

**Rrs are appreciated.**


	7. The Beginnings of an Adventure

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nope, Hobbit is not mine. If it were than Thorin, Kili, and Fili would not die. They would live! THEY WOULD LIVE! But sadly, I don't own Hobbit. But I write this fanfic for amusement, and I hope all you will enjoy it. **

**Summary: A mistake as a child leaves Elizabeth cursed, and if she falls…so shall the Durin line.**

**Pairings: Eventual Thorin/OC, Biblo/? (I am open to suggestions on Bilbo's pairing since I haven't anything in mind yet.)**

**Verse: It will be a mixture of the book and movie, but probably will lean more towards the movie since it's the one I know most about. I've only read half of the book so far. **

**Warning: Eventual nightmares, torture, sexual themes and more**

I want to thank BloodBlackAlchemist, Gingah18, LuvWolves4ever, Wolves of Midnight, chrisd1016929, dianaemrys15, nbowles, Goalphabeticalorder, MYSTERYGEEK, Neewa, ThaliaHuntressGrace, Tiryn, aeriestar, , MissVanora, Prost, TerribleSuccubus, izatelles, jorja85, SprinklingStardust0596, Voletta97, gallant2195, Zinverai, WindyCorners, kassiopeia089, InezSophia, Ogregal, blushingpixie, valeries26, wishmaster720, SpiffyPixie1, cheechee123, BelievingInMiracles, Katya Romanov, FlyingHampsterOfDoom, Shasaria, CrazyDarkness15, ERidg17, Karana92, , Creative Lunatic, AnnieVogel90, Trance20666 and THE WALKING sexy AMC for the follows! Thank you!

I also want to thank dianaemrys15, Tiryn, ThaliaHuntressGrace, TerribleSuccubus, MissVanora and Goalphabeticalorder, jorja85, Voletta97, gallant2195, WindyCorners, camsam17, Ogregal, blushingpixie, SpiffyPixie1, Prost, Shasaria, Jaxx Ren, ERidg17, Karana92, Creative Lunatic, Trance20666 and DrAnime203 for the favs.

And I am giving a special thanks to the reviewers, Guest 1, Prost, Shasaria, SpiffyPixie1, and Guest 2! **If I missed anyone just shout out at me in a review, or PM. :D**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest 1: **Glad you like the interaction between Thorin and Elizabeth. I tried to keep as realistic as possible. Thanks for the review.

**Guest 2: **Thank you so much. For the wonderful review, and the kind words. I really appreciate them. :D

**Sorry for the late update. I had this chapter longer, but when I realized I had over thirty pages I had to find a way to cut it in half. Also I'm trying to finish up my NCIS story which is turning out harder than I thought. Anyways, hope you all enjoy! :D**

* * *

"Regular Talking"

'_Thought will be set up like this.'_

"_Elvish words and translation will be in italic." I've tried to use as much elvish from reliable sights as I could to get an authentic feel. Some things I don't have elvish for, but they will still be in italics so consider it elvish."_

**NOTICE: **The One Ring shall be dealt with. I will not leave it open ended, or merely not dealt with. Also it will not be a quick pop to Mordor and all is said and done. I am already working on it with the Lotr trilogy, movie and books, and it will be several chapters, but it's all going to say in one story. Also, when I post up the timeline certain dates will be changed due to plot needs, and with be marked in the timeline with a ** so there will not be any confusion with canon.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**The Beginnings of an Adventure**

The sunlight drifted down upon her with a comforting warm, like a father's hug or a mother's kiss to the forehead. Elizabeth absorbed the warmth from where she lazily rode across the grassy field, waiting for the Company to come riding along. Her horse, Aracala looked majestic and sleek with her freshly groomed coat glistening in the sun like shimmering gold and her blond mane billowing wildly as she let out a loud neigh. Aracala was a wall of lean, muscle bred for speed and strength. And was as incorrigible curious like a child, for the horse had her head bent and curiously stared at a squirrel that was running around in front of them. The cool breeze carried the sound of voices, and Elizabeth straightened upright on the saddle. Long, wiry limbs filled with leaves obscured the Company, but it was certainly them. She could hear Kili and Fili's laughter and Bofur singing a song about a merry old inn.

Aracala neighed, inquiringly and tossed her mane out of her eyes to see better. Elizabeth chuckled, patting her neck with a soft, fond smile upon her face as her blue eyes watched the Company ride around the corner. As she expected, Thorin lead the front of the company with Balin and Dwalin flanking his side. Bifur, Bofur and Bombur were riding at the end. Nori road in the middle, constantly changing his pace while Dori and Ori were clustering in the middle with Fili, Kili, Oin and Gloin. Gandalf rode off to the side, his long beard and grey pointy hat unmistakable.

"She is late," Balin murmured.

Elizabeth's eyebrow quirked upward, and have no doubt that the 'she' they mentioned was her. She urged Aracala forward, slowly.

"It matters not. If she does not show before we leave the Shire, then she shall be left behind," Dwalin grunted.

Thorin kept his silence. His blue eyes scanning the horizon, searchingly. He should not be surprised that she has not shown. She would not be the first to break oaths with him and his kind. "Carry on," he began to order when he caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, and turned. A trill of shock rushed through him as his gaze met a pair of unnatural eyes.

"I'm not late," Elizabeth stated, mock offended. Many dwarves jolted in surprise and shock and twisted towards her. Nori, however, wore a knowing kind of smile. "Merely waiting," Elizabeth stated, simply as she nonchalantly joined the company on the road. Her eyes swept over all of them, before returning to the Company's leader.

The daylight did nothing to make him appear any less severe, and he was poised on top of the horse like a bird of prey sitting on a turret staring down waiting to strike. The image of a predator harden in her mind as she absorbed the sight of him against rising sun. His heavy brows framed deep-set eyes that at present looked the color of midnight blue sky and unfathomable as the heavens themselves. There were harsh lines etched at the sides of his stern mouth. "You are here," he stated, and if he was surprised he hid it well.

"I gave my word," she said, looking at him through her lashes. Her lips curled upward into a half smile, and her eyes glinted with a dry amusement. "Try not to look so disappointed."

Thorin arched a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting a fragment. He still had doubts of how exactly this tenacious young woman would be of any help to the company, but he found himself reluctantly admiring wry humor and boldness more than he'd admit. "Carry on," he ordered more firmly this time, and nudged his horse's sides with his heel and the horse gave a snort before trotting forward once more.

Elizabeth snorted, lightly at the very clear dismissal when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. She turned to find Balin looking up at her with a considering look. He looked her straight in the eyes for a long moment, then nodded to himself as if he found what he was looking for. "Welcome to the Company, lassie," Balin said, and he seemed genuinely pleased that she showed. A fear-a linger doubt that she did not know she had-abated and Elizabeth felt her entire body from head to toe relax.

"Thank you, Master Balin," she said, and gave him a smile.

He released her shoulder, and returned to Thorin's side at the head of the company. Elizabeth watched as several members of the company passed, offering greeting and she twisted the reigns so Aracala would fall in line along side of them. It was only then a moment later that Nori, thief by trade if the dagger she saw his nimble fingers nick off of Dwalin only moments before was any indication came to ride alongside of her.

"I suppose you'll be wanting in on the wager, lass?" Nori cocked up an eyebrow with a smirk upon his face.

She turned her face towards him, and studied him for a long moment. "What wager?" Elizabeth asked, decidedly wary. There was a glint of mischievousness in his gaze, and she wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing.

"On Bilbo, of course!" Bofur stated, with a wild hand gesture as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"Bilbo?" Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. "What does this…be have to do with Bilbo?" She asked, even though she had a good feeling that she knew exactly that what the bet had to do with the hobbit.

"On whether or not he shows up," Bofur stated.

"He won't," Dwalin commented, roughly.

"He will!" Kili defended, while Fili just shook his head side to side. Other murmured in their opinions as well, eventually it all came back to them all looking at Elizabeth.

"What?" She blurted out, her eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline as she shifted underneath all the stairs. It was unnerving to be underneath twelve gazes at once (Gandalf was merrily enjoying the scenery and Thorin vigilantly looked forward, his expression stony.)

"Well, what say you, lass?" Gloin stated, loudly. "Do you think the hobbit will show, or stay in his little hobbit hole?"

Elizabeth wanted to point out that Bag End was not little by any means, but let the impulse slip by for the thought was inane and unimportant. "Of course, he will show," Elizabeth stated, because in her heart she believed that to be true. She knew that realistically she could not truly be certain on this, but she had this feeling in her heart. A strange knowing, and she had complete faith Bilbo would show as she had faith that dawn would break each day.

Thorin scoffed lightly, but Elizabeth's keen ears caught it and she gave him a dark glare. She opened her mouth to making a cutting remark when Nori jingled a bag of coins to regain her attention. "If your so confident why not put some money on it?" Nori challenged, with a roguish smirk.

Elizabeth had no need of gold, but she saw little harm in placing a bet. "How much?" She questioned, raising her chin ever so slightly.

"20 gold pieces," Nori informed her.

"Very well, Master Nori," she said, inclining her head in his direction. "You have yourself a bet." A cheer came from some of the other dwarves at her answer, while Gandalf smiled knowingly.

Elizabeth scanned the Shire that was in the distance, and growing even further behind them with each passing second. Aracala trotted happily, and nickered at all the other horses happy to have company. It was very rare that Elizabeth traveled with others. Several minutes passed where they road. The Dwarves chatted amongst themselves, but Elizabeth kept silent. She took this time to looked at all the dwarves and looked at them thoughtfully. They were all proud, and stubborn people not unlike herself. Balin was old and wise and had a kindness about him that put Elizabeth at ease. Dwalin was a bit gruff, but he seemed like a honest dwarf and she could also tell he was an accomplished fighter.

Bofur was openly joking, and talkative, but she had a feeling his bold personality hid a depth that few got to see. raised her emerald hazel stare, and continued to look at the group, evaluating them one by one. Bifur only spoke in khuzdul (or with his hands) a side effect of the ax in his head, so communication with him would be strained without a translator. He gave offer her an encouraging smile. Or what appeared to be an encouraging smile, it might have been an insane one, but she returned it nonetheless. Bombur was a sweet, jolly dwarf and from the conversation he was having with Ori, he was a cook.

Oin who was had a horn in left ear was stern healer, and a bit hard of hearing, but he appeared to have a kind disposition. Ori whom was writing constantly in his book taking not everything around while Dori fretted over him, worriedly. Gloin gushed about his wife and son, and he could not be more prouder as he stared down at the pictures he had of them.

Nori was harder to pin down than the rest. He outwardly was pleasant and a bit of a rascal, though she had no doubt he could be down right dangerous given the chance. Fili and Kili held themselves proudly, reminiscent of Thorin. But unlike Thorin, they had a carefree air that surrounded them as well as a great mischief in their eyes that reminded her of a pair of twins in Rivendell. Suddenly Aracala threw back her mane slowly her gait into a shuffle while she gave a neigh. Elizabeth looked down questioningly when she heard a shout upon the wind.

"Wait!"

The wind whipped the loose strands of her hair, into her face as she twisted around to look behind her. She tucked the wild strands behind her ear, as her eyes narrowed on the green valley behind them. Her eyes widened a fraction as she seen a very familiar hobbit rushing up the hill and waving a contract wildly in his hand. A laugh passed through her lips, and her lips were stretched into a broad smile. "Bilbo!" She called out.

"Bilbo?" Fili blinked.

"Bilbo!?" Bofur exclaimed.

Thorin's eyes narrowed in shock, at the hobbit. He then glanced over, and caught the woman's gaze. She casually sent him a smug look, and he felt his expression tighten into a glower while her smile broadened. The rest of the dwarves twisted in their saddles, all to look at the hobbit that ran towards them as fast as his hairy feet could carry him. "WAIT!" He cried out, desperately. "I signed it!"

Gandalf's eyes crinkled, as he smiled proudly at the hobbit. Bilbo slowed his footsteps until he came to a halt beside Balin, and held up the contract. "I signed it," he said, breathlessly.

Balin takes the contract, and pulls out a pocket-glass to inspect the hobbit's signature before he smiled at Bilbo. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield," Balin said, and cheers erupted from the company.

Thorin arched his brow, glancing at the hobbit with a cold kind of consideration. "Give him a pony," he ordered, roughly after a moment and Bilbo blanched.

"No, no, no, no, that-that won't be necessary, thank you, but I'm sure I can keep up on foot," Bilbo stated, shaking his head rapidly not noticing Kili and Fili's approach.

"Not with the distance will be walking Bilbo," Elizabeth told him, and bit back a smile as the two dwarves reached down and heaved the hobbit off the ground. Bilbo's eyes bulged out, and his mouth dropped on in a silent scream as he kicked his feet wildly. The set him down on the saddle of Myrtle, their only pony and the only stead Bilbo would be capable of riding.

The hobbit looked terrified.

"Oh, Myrtle is a gentle pony. She won't be giving you any trouble," Bofur assured him, with a smile.

Bilbo didn't look particularly convinced.

"Come on, Nori, pay up," Oin suddenly shouted. "Go on."

Nori sighed, and tossed a sack of money to Oin. Bags of money flew in the air, and Bilbo watched on bemused. He looked to Elizabeth. "What's that about?" He asked, head tilted to the side.

"They placed bets on whether or not you'd turn up," Elizabeth explained, with more than a little amusement in her voice. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"What of you? What did you two bet?" The hobbit asked, after a moment of silence. He got his answer when two bags of money came flying at the pair.

Two bags of money soared in their direction. Elizabeth caught hers, and secured it to her waist. Gandalf smirked triumphantly, holding his bag of gold. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second," he stated, as he put the money into his bag.

Bilbo felt something lighten in his chest. He wasn't sure if coming on this adventure was worth it, but he did admit that having the pair of them bet on him did make him feel a bit better about it. Elizabeth clasped a hand on his shoulder. "It gladdens me that decide to come on this journey, Bilbo," Elizabeth said, her eyes shining bright.

"Well…" Bilbo grumbled, but the half smile on his face gave him away. "Couldn't let you have all the fun," he settled for saying.

Elizabeth let out a laugh, her smile visibly brightening and then a sly gleam entered her eyes that immediately put the hobbit on edge. "Good. Now you have no reason to not continue your sword training," she said, with a smirk and her hand dropped from his shoulder.

"I guess not-wait, what?" The hobbit blinked, and the words sunk in. "No, no, no! Elizabeth, wait! Get back here!" Bilbo nearly yelled as Elizabeth rode up towards the front. Several dwarves chuckled at the pair, and Bilbo who struggled to stay balanced on the pony. "Elizabeth, we need to have a discussion! Now! _Right now!_"

Thorin gave a sharp shake of his head. "With all the racket, he shall alert every enemy on our path," Thorin grumbled, roughly. Dwalin grunted in agreement, while Balin merely sighed.

"You are still in the Shire, Master Oakenshield," Gandalf spoke up, his displeasure thinly veiled by a mask of civility as he heard the comment. "You shall find no enemies here."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Elizabeth announced, loudly. She had pulled her stead to a halt as her eyes spied something pink, frilly with a mess of blond curls and umbrella rushing up the path in fury. "He might find one," she said, with a sardonic smile. "Lobelia," she added, in warning to Bilbo. Bilbo cursed before he could help it startling a laugh out of Kili and squeak of out Ori. Dori quickly reached over covering Ori's ears and sent Bilbo a glare.

"Bilbo Baggins!" The harpy came to a halt in front of the entire company-one had to at least admire Lobelia's bravery for facing the fearsome group of dwarves, or pity her for her stupidity-and shrieked. Her green eyes were a suiting color for all the jealousy that were in her heart, and they were narrowed and her lips were pressed into a thin line of disapproval. "What in Yavanna's green hills do you think you are doing? Parading around with these-these dwarves," she spat out like a curse word and several members of the company bristled, "and seen consorting with wizards! Have you no _shame_?"

Bilbo sputtered, his face paling and his nerve crumbling underneath the onslaught of Lobelia's vicious words. He saw the bewilderment of the dwarves, and he also saw the stormy quality that entered Gandalf's gaze. He glanced out at Elizabeth, whose expression was stony and her jaw was clenched tightly. Sensing trouble about to stir, Bilbo tried to quickly to keep peace. "Hello, Lobelia," he said, his tone pleasantly, but the slight stutter in his words belied his nerves. "Lovely morning, isn't it?"

"Lovely morning? Lovely morning? That is all you have to say for yourself?" Lobelia snapped, with a huff. "It would be a lovely morning if I didn't wake up to find my garden had been brutalized by your-your band of dwarves!"

Elizabeth glanced over at Fili and Kili, who shared a guilty look. She made a mental note to congratulate them, before she turned back to Lobelia with a glare.

"Burglar," Thorin eyed Lobelia as if she were something he just scrapped off his booth, "what is the reason for this disruption?"

"Uh, well," Bilbo fiddled nervously with the reins, while his face flushed red. "You see-"

"Angry fiancé?" Bofur suggested, helpfully.

Kili and Fili shared a grin. "Ah, perhaps our burglar has some explaining to do," Kili barely choked back his laughter.

"Trying to run out on a his fiancé," Fili clucked his tongue, and shook hi shad in mock disappointment. His lips twitched, his face threatening to split in a smile. "Or perhaps a wedding?"

"What? No!"

"Me? _Marry _him?" Lobelia gagged, then paused. "Wait! Burglar? Why are you calling him burglar?" The blonde hobbit's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Bilbo sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, she would latch onto that. He could only imagine the rumors that she would start and spread and mourned the loss of his status as a respectable hobbit.

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly losing his patience over such a trivial squabble and once again cursed the wizard's choice of a burglar.

"No," Elizabeth cut in dryly. "Not a fiancé. Just a loud mouthed harpy. Good day, Lobelia," Elizabeth had a forced smile on her face, as she greeted the hobbit lass. "I would say you look lovely today but it appears like your flowers, you've been trampled on."

It did look like she had been trampled on, with her wild curls sticking about and the wrinkle quality of her dress. It had appeared that Lobelia had saw the state of her garden and rushed out the door after hastily trying to put herself together. Lobelia's head snapped towards Elizabeth, and her face paled before turning red with embarrassment and anger. "You," Lobelia barely concealed a sneer. "What are you doing here, you harlot?"

There was a couple of noise of outrage from somewhere in the group of dwarves, and Bilbo sputtered angrily. Gandalf eyed Lobelia as if he was contemplating what kind of bug to turn her into, but Elizabeth barely reacted. Her polite façade barely cracked, only an eyebrow ticked upward gave away her annoyance. "Ah, Lobelia, that's the nicest thing your ever said to me!" She stated, with a high pitched fake laugh and her smile was too wide to be real.

Lobelia's lip curled. "I should have known this had something to do with you," the blond hobbit stated, haughtily.

"Don't you have something better to do, Lobelia? Like plot how to steal Bilbo's silverware? Or Bag End?" Elizabeth shot back, with an air of exasperation surrounding her.

Bilbo put his knuckles in his mouth to stop the laughter as Lobelia went slack jawed at the accusation then her eyes narrowed into slits. "I told them, you know. I told them that you shouldn't be allowed in the Shire. Anywhere the Grave Burner goes, chaos is bound to follow."

Bilbo gasped outraged. Thorin's eyes narrowed, and his brows furrowed as he looked at the stricken expression on Elizabeth's face. The woman had pulled back as if she had just be struck which only-annoyingly so-piqued his curiosity further.

"Grave burner?" Ori asked, his brows crinkled in confusion.

"What's a grave burner?" Oin asked, his face scrunched up and he twisted his ear trumpet as if he wasn't sure if he heard that right.

Elizabeth didn't answer. Instead, she sat froze upon her stead, and Aracala neighed worriedly sensing her distress. She looked dazed as if she couldn't quite believe that Lobelia had just went there, and then her expression went cold. "I suggest you," her tone was light, but there was unmistakable weight to her words, "refrain from calling me that, Halfling."

"Elizabeth," Bilbo was astonished, "we hobbits are half of-"

"You are half of nothing, Bilbo," Elizabeth stated, pointedly. "As for some hobbits," a stink eye thrown in Lobelia direction left little doubt to whom she was talking about, "the same cannot be said."

"Why you-" Lobelia hissed. "It is a title you earned."

"That may be," Elizabeth commented, tightly. "But perhaps you've forgotten how I earned that name. The why behind it." She gave the female hobbit a hard stare. "I could have left it to you. To all of you. I didn't because it was the right thing to do. So you could keep the memory of how they were because they weren't as you remembered, and you shouldn't have to had to see that. I spared you that pain, do not attempt to mock me for it."

Lobelia opened her mouth only then to close it, and looked down. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment and perhaps a bit of shame, too. The blond hobbit twisted her dress nervously in her hands before she turned and walked away in silence. Elizabeth sat there rigidly on top of her horse, and could feel the curiosity and suspicion rolling off the dwarves in waves. Running a hand through her hair, she heaved a sigh while she watched Lobelia walk out of sight.

"Woman," a voice barked.

Her head snapped towards Thorin, who regarded her with a dark gaze. "Dwarf," she shot back, mocking his tone and glare.

"What was the meaning of that?" Thorin asked, the lines around his eyes more pronounced with his misgivings. Grave Burner, was not a title he had ever heard before and while the denotation behind it was unknown to him it did not create the image of someone trustworthy. He knew that Balin would most likely reprimand him for his harsh suspicion, but with the Lonely Mountain so close, he could not afford to be anything but. He would allow nothing to jeopardize this journey, and especially not for a hobbit or this woman.

"Nothing of your concern," she said, her tone simple. He had no right to hear that story, and she would not offer him any explanation. At least, not right now.

"If it puts this company at risk," Thorin shot back, rigidly, "then you'll find it is my concern."

"'Tis a cognomen, nothing more. So stifle your concern, your company will be brought no harm by me," Elizabeth stated, airily. Her answer that really didn't answer anything only made Thorin's expression sour further, and that probably amused more than it should have. "And if you wanted a full disclosure of my past, Master Oakenshield, perhaps you should have put that in your contract," she added, cheekily.

Thorin gave her a flat look, his fingers twisting in the reign to try quell the urge to throttle the young woman. He had never met anyone with such cheek, or with the nerve to give him such save for his most esteemed friends who had long since earned that right. However, Miss Morgan was not such a person. Perhaps this was Mahal's way of cursing him for taking his sister sons without her blessing. Dis had said she would find a way of paying him back, and this cheeky lass would a perfect punishment.

"Bilbo," her voice broke through Thorin's thoughts and he saw her turn towards the hobbit, "let's go see them. We should say good-bye before we leave. They would want us to say good-bye."

Bilbo blinked; half surprised, half startled. Then he let out a long breath, before he nodded with a heavy heart. "Yes. They would," he said, quietly.

"We have not the time for farewells. If there were partings to be said, you should have already spoken them," Thorin intoned, his disgruntled gaze flickered between the pair.

"Then you are in luck, Master Dwarf," Elizabeth said, and held his stare. "For we," she grabbed Bilbo's reigns, and lead him along, "intend to ride ahead in order to spare you your time!" She urged into a gallop without waiting for a reply and Bilbo yelped clinging onto the pony for dear life. "Try not to get the Company lost, Master Oakenshield! There are many more hobbits like Lobelia, and I'd hate for your journey to end because you got on the wrong side of gardening shovel!"

Elizabeth flashed Thorin a cheeky smile over her shoulder and savored the image of Thorin's glower before the road curved and a grove of trees blocked her view. Dwalin let out a bark of laughter, having no issue with the dark glare sent his way. Fili bit his bottom lip hard while he looked everywhere, but his uncle. Kili had bent over burying his face into his horse's neck to muffle his laughter. Balin chuckled along with Gandalf while the rest at the dwarves valiantly tried to hide their amusement.

Thorin gripped his reigns until his knuckles were blanched white, but he schooled his featured into a haughty expression. As a throb went through his temples, he wondered exactly what the wizard had brought down upon him. "Move on," he ordered, sharply. All the laughter ceased, and the company did as they were bid. His gaze flickered to where the woman and hobbit had disappeared, and bit back a sigh as a familiar pain (usually one only his nephews could invoke) pulse through his skull. _Insufferable wench, _he thought before dispelling any thought of the woman from his mind and concentrated on the path before him.

And to not get lost on it.

* * *

**2912**

**The Shire**

**Spring**

The grave digger. The grave burner. Its what they, the fauntlings, came to call her as winter ended. They didn't understand. All they saw was her take the bodies (though their parents valiant tried to shield them from such horrors) and they were never seen again. The snow began to melt, and one would think the troubles were over. But with the snow melting, it revealed the devastation left behind. Broken bodies that had been hidden beneath the white were revealed. Survivors went to their neighbors only to find they had frozen to death, and the bodies began to pile up. Nearly half of the Shire had been wiped out, and even as the air warmed Bilbo felt that he would never be warm again. He stared at the pile the bodies in the cart and Elizabeth who stood surrounded by trees and six feet deep holes and she kept digging. And those she did not dig graves for would be burned in the pyre in the even. Not all could bear to see the headstones, a terrible reminder of a terrible time.

It is why the Thain designated Elizabeth to make the graves in a place shrouded by trees. Out of sight, and out of mind. Or so the Shire hoped, but it left Bilbo with a bitter taste in his mouth. His rubbed his arms, and looked at Elizabeth who wiped the sweat from her brow. Dark bags hung underneath her eyes, and a tremble ran along her jaw. She looked tired and exhausted, a look of total devastation plastered to her face. No one else could beat back the orcs and wargs like she had, and no one could bring themselves to bury their loved ones, so she did.

"You should not be out here, Bilbo," her voice came quiet as the breeze as she shoved the shovel into the hard ground and forced the dirt from the earth. "You are still sick," she paused, briefly to send him a reprimanding glare before continuing to dig.

"Neither should you," he commented, after a ragged cough. He then paused to regain his breath, ignoring the pain inside his chest. "You shouldn't have to do this alone. The others should be helping." _I should be helping, _he added in thought, as his eyes found his father's grave marked with only a large sand stone and his name that had been crudely engraved upon it until something more suitable could be done.

"No one should have to see their loved ones like this, Bilbo," Elizabeth sighed heavily. "They should get to remember them as they were. I do not mind this burden, and I will bear it gladly. Now, please…you should not have to see this. Go home. Be with your mother," she said, softly. She looked up at him, and gave him a sad smile. "She needs you."

_So do you, _he wished to counter, but did not. Bilbo wasn't sure if Elizabeth could handle being called out on that right now when she appeared so tired and shaken. He coughed into the crook of his arm, before he gave a heavy sigh. "Just let me stay," he pleaded, gently. "Just for a moment." _Just for a moment so neither of us are alone, _he thought, blinking his wet eyes. He didn't want to head back to Bag End just yet, for it was filled with haunting reminders of happier times and his mother who was silently staring out the window as if seeing something in the distance that no one else could.

Elizabeth paused, leaning on the shovel to keep herself upright. She regarded him with such a sad gaze, like for a moment she just might shatter. Her fingers trembled, before she bowed her head and returned to her task. "Very well," she agreed, with a light nod. "But only for a moment."

Bilbo nodded, and sat down on the hillside. He just sat there, longer than the moment he had been promised, but Elizabeth made no mention of the time passing. Biblo sat there in silence, and Elizabeth just kept digging.

* * *

**2491**

**The Shire**

**The Fell Winter Cemetery**

The sun was bright and blazing. The flowers were colorful and in bloom. Everything green and lush, and yet Elizabeth was troubled by the sight as she stood on the edge of the cemetery. Cemeteries weren't supposed to look happy. _They were supposed to look mourning_, she thought inanely. _Dark and depressing._ Her gaze flickered across the headstones which had replaced the crude rocks that once marked the graves-graves such as these weren't common practice in the Shire, it was easy to burn the dead, than bury them-and thought about how the Fell Winter had left too many bodies. The sight of the cemetery took her back to that dark time, and it made her heart cringe.

Some graves were marked. Some of the graves were unmarked. Some hobbits had been mutilated beyond recognition thanks to the wolves, wargs and orcs. She shook her head, forcing such unpleasant thoughts away as she looked towards Bilbo. He stood in front of two headstones, his hazel eyes flickered back and forth between them. His mother had wanted to be bury right along side her father, reunited in death, he supposed is what she hoped for.

** Belladonna Baggins Bungo Baggins**

** 2853-2919 2846-2911**

He never read the epitaphs. The beautiful sentiments engraved beneath their names. He knew what a wonderful father his dad had been. He knew that his mother was beloved, most of all by him. He did not need those words because he had always known who his parents were. He didn't need a headstone to remind him. He let out a weighty sigh as he contemplated the headstones. He thought himself pretty clever for a hobbit, but in this very moment he knew not what to say.

Elizabeth walked across the graveyard, and came to stand behind Bilbo. He looked a bit shaken, and a twinge of guilt hit her in the chest. "Bilbo, I'm sorry," she apologized, suddenly. "I shouldn't have brought you down here."

"Don't apologize," Bilbo chided, quietly. "You needed a moment to breath. Honestly, so did I." A wistful smile played upon his lips. "She would have been ecstatic to see me going on an adventure."

"She would have," Elizabeth agreed, softly.

"Father wouldn't have," Bilbo laughed, his voice a bit wobbly. "He is probably rolling in his grave as we speak."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Elizabeth said, with a tiny chuckle. "He wasn't adventurous, but he loved your mother so on some level I'm sure he would understand."

"I suppose so," Bilbo said, not entirely convinced. "But going on an adventure…not at all respectable."

"You mother went on adventures," Elizabeth pointed out, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiled down on him. "She turned out pretty well, didn't she?"

"Yes," Bilbo answered, with no hesitation.

"And so have you," she said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "You showed a lot of courage today."

"All I did was sign my name on a piece of paper," Bilbo gave her a flat look.

"You did much more than that," she said, with a half smile and eyebrow arched upward. "It takes a lot to give up the comforts of the known for the uncertainty of the unknown."

"Not for you," Bilbo retorted, lightly. "You always have one foot out the door."

It was meant as teasing, but Elizabeth's lips parted in surprise. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and she looked a bit wounded. She opened her mouth to say something when a familiar grey figure stepped through the throng of trees. "I knew I would find the pair of you down here," Gandalf smiled, at the pair.

"We weren't exactly hiding," Elizabeth tossed the wizard a dry glance.

"Of course not," said Gandalf, with a merry twinkle in his eye and the tone in voice implied that he was merely humoring her. "I trust you two are ready to continue your journey?"

Elizabeth glanced over at Bilbo and the hobbit glanced back at her. Bilbo haved a sigh, but nodded with a half smile on his face. "Yes, we are," Bilbo said, a bit resigned, but there was tremble of excitement that rushed through him. Apparently his Tookish side was not as dominant as he would have liked to believe. "Oh," his face fell as he reached into his pocket. "Oh, no! Oh, no!"

Elizabeth and Gandalf blinked.

"My dear hobbit, what ever is the matter?" The wizard asked, bemused.

"I haven't got any supplies, and I haven't got any money!" Bilbo exclaimed, his brows furrowed nervously. He had been quite in a hurry and had run out of his home with nothing, but the clothes on his back. "And…I've forgotten my handkerchief!"

Elizabeth gave a light laugh, and threw her hand over her mouth when the hobbit gave her a mean glare. The Grey Wizard sighed, lightly. "You will have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach out journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you…" The Grey Wizard gave him an encouraging smile. "The world is ahead."

The Grey Wizard head through the tree, and Elizabeth looked towards Bilbo. She watched the emotions play across his face, and could see the fear and hesitation in his eyes. "Bilbo," she said, gently. "I cannot promise you that there won't be troubles, or danger on this journey, but I will promise you this: I promised to protect you, Bilbo, as best I can. I will continue to do so as long as you'll have me stand at your side."

"You always do that," Bilbo said, suddenly. His shoulders slumped, and he felt his fear abate for a moment.

"Do what?" She blinked, genuinely puzzled.

"Nothing," he said, with a small laugh and shake of his head. "Nevermind. Let's go."

As they pushed through the trees, the found the Company just catching up with them. Thorin's face was blank, but Elizabeth could see the impatience that set just underneath his skin. Fili and Kili enthusiastically offered to help Bilbo onto his pony once more, but the hobbit blanched, shaking his head violently. After three failed attempt on his own for he refused Elizabeth's help, he wasn't given much of a choice. Fili and Kili hauled him off the ground, and set him down on the pony. Backwards.

Elizabeth laughed, while Bilbo glowered and he sat himself right without falling off. A sigh worked its way up Thorin's throat, but he held it back. The throbbing ache from his temples bloomed outward until his entire headache. "Move along," he called out. The King in Exile was determined to make up the time they had lost with all the dilly dallying about.

Bilbo drew to the side of Gandalf, and entered into an awkward conversation with the wizard while Elizabeth rode off to the side. Her gaze scanned the green fields ever warily. Even though an attack was highly unlikely while still within the Shire borders, that did not mean there weren't any to be found. As her gaze moved around, it was unconsciously drawn back to the leader of their company. Thorin had an arrogant lift to his chin, and his piercing blue eyes remained trained on the road before them, unflinching.

Elizabeth got the immediate sense that Thorin was scared of no one, that he did what he pleased and he did not care a bit what other thought of it. Which was not entirely a bad thing, she thought as the corner of her mouth tilted upward in reluctant admiration. The breeze picked up and rustled through the trees before washing over Elizabeth toying with her hair in a comforting motion. _It has begun…_a voice came like a whisper on the wind, and Elizabeth's spine immediately straighten like a rod of steel. Her eyes went a bid wide, and the air shoved out of her lungs. Instinctively, she glanced over at Gandalf for the wizard was more in tune with the world than she, but Gandalf seemed blissfully unaware of anything strange going on. Frowning heavily, she strained to hear over the various conversations going on in the group. For a moment, there was nothing, but a gentle breeze. Several seconds passed by with no more whispers and when Elizabeth was about to relax in her saddle the whisper came once more.

_It has begun, _the voice was louder, and the unmistakable image of Lady Galadriel flashed through her mind. So it was Lady Galadriel's voice that whispered upon the wind. The tension eased out of her shoulders ever so slightly, but not by much. A sense of foreboding knotted in her gut as the words repeated themselves over and over in her head.

It had begun. Did Lady Galadriel mean this journey to the Lonely Mountain? Or did she mean something else? Whatever she meant, Elizabeth could feel the ominous tone still ringing in her head and for the rest of the day, she rode in a deep, troubled silence.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER**

**Originally I was going to have this chapter longer…then I realized I had written over thirty pages, and decided to cut it half. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed!**

**Rrs are always appreciated!**


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